 | Studies from the Antique and Sketches from Nature |  |
188
ITHURIEL.
Through the wide world he goes,
Surrounded by his foes,
And sees each ancient Falsehood where it hives;
He strikes them with his spear,
And, lo! in daylight clear,
They spring full-armed, and struggle for their lives.
They call on kings and laws
To aid their sacred cause—
On Church with its anathemas to ban;—
For dungeon and for stake,
Or wheel, his limbs to break—
A mournful fate is his—Ithuriel;—yet a man!
Surrounded by his foes,
And sees each ancient Falsehood where it hives;
He strikes them with his spear,
And, lo! in daylight clear,
They spring full-armed, and struggle for their lives.
They call on kings and laws
To aid their sacred cause—
On Church with its anathemas to ban;—
For dungeon and for stake,
Or wheel, his limbs to break—
A mournful fate is his—Ithuriel;—yet a man!
189
No scaly monsters hid
In grove or pyramid,
Though robed as angels to deceive his eyes,
Can hide them from his glance,
Or puncture of the lance,
With which he strips them of their false disguise.
Sad hero! most maligned
And wronged of human kind,
Because he scorns the falsehoods we revere!
Why should he earn their hate?
The world's the Farm of Fate,
And Fate must reap the corn. Ithuriel! break thy spear!
In grove or pyramid,
Though robed as angels to deceive his eyes,
Can hide them from his glance,
Or puncture of the lance,
With which he strips them of their false disguise.
Sad hero! most maligned
And wronged of human kind,
Because he scorns the falsehoods we revere!
Why should he earn their hate?
The world's the Farm of Fate,
And Fate must reap the corn. Ithuriel! break thy spear!
| Studies from the Antique and Sketches from Nature | |