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those old times wherein Theology Flourished with greater sap and energy, A celebrated doctor—so they say— Having stirred many careless hearts one day Down to their dullest depths, and having shown Strange pathways leading to the heavenly throne— Tracks he himself had never journeyed on (Whereby maybe pure spirits alone had gone)— Frenzied and swollen by the devilish pride, Like to a man who has climbed too high, outcried: Ah, little Jesus, I have lifted thee! But had I willed to assault thy dignity, Thy shame had matched they present fame, and lo! Thou wouldst be but a wretched embryo!"

Straightway his reason left him; that keen mind, Sunbright before, was darkened and made blind; All chaos whirled within that intellect Erewhile a shrine with all fair gems bedeckt, Beneath whose roof such pomp had shone so bright; He was possessed by silence and thick night As is a cellar when its key is lost

Thenceforth he was a brute beast; when he crossed The fields at times, not seeing any thing, Knowing not if 'twere winter or green spring, Useless, repulsive, vile, he made a mock For infants, a mere children's laughing-stock.