 | The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere |  |
XXVII. THE HIGHER CIVILIZATION.
Blow struck at Rome an instant echo hathIn every land where sits the Church a guest:
The centre's there. A local church oppressed
By popular madness or a tyrant's wrath
Not less, like Thecla, lions in her path,
May stand secure; though galled in head and breast
426
Cecilia-like, within the crimsoned bath
Of her own blood. Meantime the Church is free,
Her doctrine sure while free He sits at Rome
Who speaks the authentic voice of Christendom:
His Faith, all know, is hers. If bound were He,
The whole no longer could secure the part:
The world's broad hand would lie upon the Church's heart.
| The Poetical Works of Aubrey De Vere | |