 | Agamemnon |  |
TO THE MOST REVEREND RICHARD CHENEVIX TRENCH D.D., ARCHBISHOP OF DUBLIN.
Dear friend, of old true guide of pilgrims known,Leading their steps where Wisdom's fair pearls lie,
With orient gems, in Truth's rich treasury,
On to the altar-stairs and sapphire Throne,—
Now reaping harvest which thou hast not sown,
The heaped-up debt of far ancestral crimes,
Bearing the brunt of these our troublous times,
While mists are thick, and loud the night-winds moan;
Scant leisure thine to look with studious eyes
On these poor transcripts of a glorious page,
The heathen's dim, ‘unconscious prophecies,’
The dreams of Hellas in her golden age:
Nay, gird thee to thy task, come good, come ill,
And so 'mid storms and fears thy Master's hest fulfil.
October 14, 1868.
| Agamemnon | |