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 The Shadow swept across the boyish face— The Shadow Fidus once had seen before; And he was silent, for in awe he stood When that mysterious shade shut off the light That shone out from the radiant brow. The Shadow was not fear, nor dread of death; But dread of something worse than death could bring. It was as if a lily, broken, bent, But yet unsullied, now was stained with filth By impious hand; more cruel far than death The marring of the whiteness death had spared: Or like a stream, that through its mountain bed Had raced unfettered, toward the amber sea, And o'er the rapids and the pebbles dashed Clear, cold and placid when the mouth is reached; Then, death unfeared before it, ready now To give back to the ocean all it gave, Into its pureness poured a stream so dark That tainted all its life, when life was lost. 'Twas thus the Shadow seemed; but soon it passed, And smiling boyhood turned a happy face The while he said: "So thou wouldst build His throne? But dost thou know the form that throne will take?"

"'T will be a throne," Fidus replied, "so high That all may see Him, while from it He reigns, And know that He has come unto His own."

"Aye," quick the Boy made answer, "it shall be Uplifted high that every man may see; Not Jews alone but even ye of Rome; And men from Britain too, on farthest shore Of Rome's great Empire: they shall see and know