SAINTS

Ye, too, must fly before a chasing hand,

Angels and Saints, in every hamlet mourned!

Ah! if the old idolatry be spurned,

Let not your radiant Shapes desert the Land:

Her adoration was not your demand,

The fond heart proffered it — the servile heart;

And therefore are ye summoned to depart,

Michael, and thou, St. George, whose flaming brand

The Dragon quelled; and valiant Margaret

Whose rival sword a like Opponent slew:

And rapt Cecilia, seraph-haunted Queen

Of harmony; and weeping Magdalene,

Who in the penitential desert met

Gales sweet as those that over Eden blew!