MONKS AND SCHOOLMEN

Record we too, with just and faithful pen,

That many hooded Cenobitesthere are,

Who in their private cells have yet a care

Of public quiet; unambitious Men,

Counsellors for the world, of piercing ken;

Whose fervent exhortations from afar

Move Princes to their duty, peace or war;

And oft-times in the most forbidding den

Of solitude, with love of science strong,

How patiently the yoke of thought they bear!

How subtly glide its finest threads along!

Spirits that crowd the intellectual sphere

With mazy boundaries, as the astronomer

With orb and cycle girds the starry throng.