And those who act with, benevolence and virtue they murder time on time. 
  These are the destroyers of Jerusalem! these are the murderers
  Of Jesus! who deny the faith and mock at eternal life,
  Who pretend to poetry that they may destroy imagination
  By imitation of nature’s images drawn from remembrance. 
  These are the sexual garments, the abomination of desolation,
  Hiding the human lineaments, as with an ark and curtains
  Which Jesus rent, and now shall wholly purge away with fire,
  Till generation is swallowed up in regeneration.

   FROM JERUSALEM

  [TO THE DEISTS]

  I saw a Monk of Charlemaine
  Arise before my sight: 
  I talked with the Grey Monk as we stood
  In beams of infernal light.

  Gibbon arose with a lash of steel,
  And Voltaire with a racking wheel;
  The schools, in clouds of learning rolled,
  Arose with war in iron and gold.

  ‘Thou lazy Monk!’ they sound afar,
  ’In vain condemning glorious war;
  And in your cell you shall ever dwell: 
  Rise, War, and bind him in his cell!’

  The blood red ran from the Grey Monk’s side,
  His hands and feet were wounded wide,
  His body bent, his arms and knees
  Like to the roots of ancient trees.

  When Satan first the black bow bent
  And the moral law from the Gospel rent,
  He forged the law into a sword,
  And spilled the blood of mercy’s Lord.

Titus!  Constantine!  Charlemaine! 
O Voltaire!  Rousseau!  Gibbon!  Vain
Your Grecian mocks and Roman sword
Against this image of his Lord;

For a tear is an intellectual thing;
And a sigh is the sword of an angel king;
And the bitter groan of a martyr’s woe
Is an arrow from the Almighty’s bow.

* * * * *

GEORGE CANNING

From THE PROGRESS OF MAN

[MATRIMONY IN OTAHEITE]

  There laughs the sky, there zephyrs frolic train,
  And light-winged loves, and blameless pleasures reign: 
  There, when two souls congenial ties unite,
  No hireling bonzes chant the mystic rite;
  Free every thought, each action unconfined,
  And light those fetters which no rivets bind. 
  There in each grove, each sloping bank along,
  And flowers and shrubs, and odorous herbs among,
  Each shepherd clasped, with undisguised delight,
  His yielding fair one—­in the captain’s sight;
  Each yielding fair, as chance or fancy led,
  Preferred new lovers to her sylvan bed. 
  Learn hence each nymph, whose free aspiring mind
  Europe’s cold laws, and colder customs bind;
  O! learn what Nature’s genial laws decree! 
  What Otaheite is, let Britain be!

* * * * *