Page:The Muse in Arms, Osborn (ed), 1917.djvu/229

Rh Across the low-lit stage. In life they saw

Service of toil and striving for thy gain:

The Muse's pensioners in death they lie.

They cherish'd thee through bitter strife and strain,

Faithful. They fought the zealous heretic,

Rapt Wyclif, zealously to guard their Truth

Nor worthy less were they who serv'd the sick

'Mid hopeless plague, and rifled Nature's store

To bless mankind: nor who for creed or king

Chang'd learning's mantle for the arms of war,

Their lives and treasuries surrendering.

Martyrs and saints have dower'd thee: one in Truth,

Old Faith, new Hope, have died to save or mar

The idols of flown ages; for Truth's sun

Shines glad alike upon all enterprise

That in the Father's eyes

Flatters the fledgling soul till the pure heights be won.

These golden memories sit round thy throne—

They are all thine; and thou art all my own.

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