| |
| ‘NOUGHT loves another as itself, | |
| Nor venerates another so, | |
| Nor is it possible to Thought | |
| A greater than itself to know: | |
| |
| ‘And, Father, how can I love you | 5 |
| Or any of my brothers more? | |
| I love you like the little bird | |
| That picks up crumbs around the door.’ | |
| |
| The Priest sat by and heard the child, | |
| In trembling zeal he seiz’d his hair: | 10 |
| He led him by his little coat, | |
| And all admir’d the priestly care. | |
| |
| And standing on the altar high, | |
| ‘Lo! what a fiend is here,’ said he, | |
| ‘One who sets reason up for judge | 15 |
| Of our most holy Mystery.’ | |
| |
| The weeping child could not be heard, | |
| The weeping parents wept in vain; | |
| They strip’d him to his little shirt, | |
| And bound him in an iron chain; | 20 |
| |
| And burn’d him in a holy place, | |
| Where many had been burn’d before: | |
| The weeping parents wept in vain. | |
| Are such things done on Albion’s shore? | |
| |
