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Rh 

Pagans warr'd against the Cross, And rudely braved the Saviour's power, Array'd in smiling innocence, There bloom'd in Rome a lily flower.

With fair round cheek and laughing eye, In artless sweet simplicity, Along the crowded streets of Rome See little Agnes passes by.

And round her is a merry troop Of schoolmates gay, returning home Ah, little know those guileless hearts How soon an evil day may come!

How soon that Saviour's name of love, So sweet to their young infancy, May claim of them their heart's best blood, In throes of mortal agony.

For oft as through the busy street Sweet Agnes pass'd in maiden pride, A noble youth observ'd the child. And sought to gain her for his bride.

Ah, reckless suitor, wonldst thou seize A gem that not to thee is giv'n; So sweet a flower blooms not for earth, It ripens for its home in heaven.

Ah, canst thou think the tribunes' hall, The lictor's axe, the torturer's art, The gloating crowd,—that these are things To win a gentle maiden's heart? 