 | Sursum Corda |  |
16
ST. WILFRID.
St. Wilfrid once, aware of love grown cold,
And faith but lukewarm in his northern fold,
While ev'n the few who failed not to be shriven
Sought less for peace than feared to forfeit Heaven,
Announced for an approaching festival
Tidings of infinite import to all.
And when the close-packed church expectant stood,
Down from its place he threw the holy rood,
Crying: “My brethren, know that Armageddon
Is fought and lost! The saints of God, though led on
By Michael and his angels, were o'erthrown,
And Satan occupies the heavenly throne.
All is reversed: 'tis sinners who will dwell
Henceforth in Heaven, while saints must burn in Hell.
For me, alack! all hope of Heaven is past.
This Saint (unlucky title!) sticks too fast.
But you, dear brethren, halting long in doubt,
May now reach Heaven with no great right-about.
Yet waste no moment; for I have sure word
That Judgment-day will be no more deferred.
The fiends are forth already, in hot search
To seize and punish all they find in church.
Doff this last rag of righteousness, and show
Conspicuously the colours of the foe!”
And faith but lukewarm in his northern fold,
While ev'n the few who failed not to be shriven
Sought less for peace than feared to forfeit Heaven,
Announced for an approaching festival
Tidings of infinite import to all.
And when the close-packed church expectant stood,
Down from its place he threw the holy rood,
Crying: “My brethren, know that Armageddon
Is fought and lost! The saints of God, though led on
By Michael and his angels, were o'erthrown,
And Satan occupies the heavenly throne.
All is reversed: 'tis sinners who will dwell
Henceforth in Heaven, while saints must burn in Hell.
17
This Saint (unlucky title!) sticks too fast.
But you, dear brethren, halting long in doubt,
May now reach Heaven with no great right-about.
Yet waste no moment; for I have sure word
That Judgment-day will be no more deferred.
The fiends are forth already, in hot search
To seize and punish all they find in church.
Doff this last rag of righteousness, and show
Conspicuously the colours of the foe!”
All stared astonished; and on many a face
Smug, smooth, and sanctimonious, a grimace
Grew slowly; while the open sinner's laughter
Rang loudly from the rood-loft to the rafter.
Then, swift as ants swarm from their threatened heap,
Or from the opened pin-fold rush the sheep,
Forth streamed the congregation, thick and fast,
Each only fearing to be found the last.
Smug, smooth, and sanctimonious, a grimace
Grew slowly; while the open sinner's laughter
Rang loudly from the rood-loft to the rafter.
Then, swift as ants swarm from their threatened heap,
Or from the opened pin-fold rush the sheep,
Forth streamed the congregation, thick and fast,
Each only fearing to be found the last.
The church was empty, and St. Wilfrid stood,
Most grimly smiling, by the fallen rood;
When in a darkened corner he was 'ware
Of some one kneeling, and a sobbing prayer:
“O dear Lord Jesu! I have followed Thee
So long, and Thou hast loved me. Let me be
Where Thou art, Jesu! Rather will I dwell
Than with Thy foes in Heaven, with Thee in Hell!”
18
When in a darkened corner he was 'ware
Of some one kneeling, and a sobbing prayer:
“O dear Lord Jesu! I have followed Thee
So long, and Thou hast loved me. Let me be
Where Thou art, Jesu! Rather will I dwell
Than with Thy foes in Heaven, with Thee in Hell!”
Then cried St. Wilfrid: “Blessed be thy name,
Woman, that puttest my weak faith to shame!
I spake but to convict the specious herd
Of vain religion this ironic word.
But now of thine example will I make
A lesson that all sinners' souls shall wake,
All saints' rekindle; and that word of thine
Shall to the world in golden letters shine.”
Woman, that puttest my weak faith to shame!
I spake but to convict the specious herd
Of vain religion this ironic word.
But now of thine example will I make
A lesson that all sinners' souls shall wake,
All saints' rekindle; and that word of thine
Shall to the world in golden letters shine.”
He stepped towards the woman: the white head
Lay on the withered hands: she knelt there—dead.
Lay on the withered hands: she knelt there—dead.
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