Fifty of the Protestant Ballads :: :: University of Virginia Library

A sumptuous temple with arches and aisles,
And steeples and towers, the landmark for miles,
And carvings within and sculptures without,
And gildings and colours around and about,
And dim painted windows and organ-pipes gay,
And priests with their choristers' surpliced array,
And vestments and incense and candles alight,
And banners and crosses bejewelled and bright,
And garlands of flowers to capture the fair,
And thrilling church-music the young to ensnare,
And everyone bowing, with face to the East,
To worship a paten, a cup, and a priest!

II

What service is this? Of the senses forsooth:
Small worshipping here that is spirit and truth;
And, shredding the bulk of the curious away,
There scarce remain any lay people to pray;
Some pensioners haply, some school children too,
Some priest-stricken girls with no better to do,

Some paralysed creatures, the halt and the blind,
And some superstitiously palsied in mind;
One here and one there, very few, far between,
By way of the lay congregation is seen,
Albeit in the chancel by clusters are found
That crowd of robed priests and their acolytes round.

I

A vast crowded hall, where the tremulous air
Is throbbing alternate with praise and with prayer,
All orderly decent, and cheerfully bright,
And plenty of windows for freshness and light,
And a single good preacher the worship to lead,
And his flock on the pastures of Scripture to feed,
And “fervent in spirit as serving the Lord,”
To break bread together and feast at His board,
With no superstition, but reverence due,
And rendering homage both simple and true,
While God's Holy Spirit, the Comforting Dove,
Broods over these thousands in blessing and love.

II

Which of these is Christ's Church? which nearest to Heaven?
This Protestant salt? that Papistical leaven?
This Low Evangelical rescuing souls,
Or yonder high-ritual Priests in their stoles?
With one is Conversion, and penitent prayer
Till sinners with saints hold communion there;
With the other confession, till worldlings get shriven
By man's absolution deceivingly given;

In these, behold Antichrist, swollen with pride,
In that, see the Christ and His mystical Bride;
With High Church, the lies of tyrannical Rome,
With Low Church, the truths of free England at home.