And if the fish should baulk his wish, He comes again to-morrow. In air let pheasants range, 'Tis to me a glorious sight, Which no fire of mine shall change I am no hound, to pant and bound Nor can I hook a trout from brook, On grass to watch its dying. And yet no sportsman keen Can a sweeter pastime ply, Or enjoy the rural scene With more ecstacy than I: There's not a view, a form, a hue, In earth, or air, or ocean, That does not fill my heart, and thrill My bosom with emotion. O clouds that paint the air! O fountains, fields, and groves! Lights, sounds, and odours rare, Which my yearning spirit loves! While thus I feel, and only steal In tuneful lays to sing your praise, THE QUARREL OF FAITH, HOPE, AND CHARITY. ONCE Faith, Hope, and Charity traversed the land, Performing their office of love hand in hand, Of the Christian world the appropriate Graces. But tiffs since those primitive days have occurr'd, As may well be surmised when I state, word for word, The terms of their latest and worst altercation: 66 Sister Charity, prythee allow me to state," Cries Faith, in a tone of contemptuous sneering, "That while you affect to be meek and sedate, "Your conduct is cunning, your tone domineering. "In the times that are gone, my world-harassing name, 66 'Received some accession of strength ev'ry hour; "St. Bartholomew's Massacre hallow'd my fame, "And Sicily's Vespers asserted my power. "When martyrs in multitudes rush'd at my call, "To peril their lives for Theology's sake, "Mine too was the voice that cried, 'Sacrifice all, 666 With gaol and with gibbet, with faggot and stake.' "When the banner of orthodox slaughter was furl'd, "And subjects no more from each other dissented, "I set them at war with the rest of the world, "And for centuries national struggles fomented. "What are all the great heroes on history's page, "But puppets who figured as I pulled the strings? "Crusades I engender'd in every age, "And Faith was the leader of armies and kings. "In those days of my glory Hope followed my track, "In warfare a firm and impartial ally, "For she constantly patted both sides on the back, "And promised them both a reward in the sky." Here Charity, heaving disconsolate sighs, That said "I admit what I deeply deplore," Uplifted to heaven her tear-suffused eyes, Which seem'd but to anger her sister the more. 66 66 Nay, none of your cant, hypocritical minx!" She cried in a louder and bitterer tone, If you feel any fancy to whimper, methinks "You might weep that the days of my glory are gone. "What wreck of my palmy puissance is left? "What bravos and bullies my greatness declare? "Of the holy and dear Inquisition bereft, "All my fierce fulminations are impotent air. |