 | Three Hundred Sonnets |  |
118
LUTHER.
Couldst thou look down upon us from thy rest,Where'er thy spirit hath its glorious home,
And note that persecuting horn of Rome
Waxing in subtle power and pride unblest,
How would thy zeal flame out, thou second Paul:
Thy spurious children, who should still protest
Against a church apostate and impure,
Now bid her prosper, and insanely call
The pampering of priestcraft, liberal!
Liberal,—to help in forging more secure
Chains for the conscience, fetters for the mind;
Liberal,—to quench our light in utter dark!
But prophecy hath told it: search and find:
Cursèd is he that shall receive the mark.
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