496¥» ^ :|i53 C2. PR OfntneU HmuerHita Cthrarg Jtiiaia. ^tm fntlt BOUGHT WITH THE INCOME OF THE SAGE ENDOWMENT FUND THE GIFT OF HENRY W. SAGE 1891 The date shows when this volume was taken. To renew this book copy the call No. and give to the librarian. HOME USE RULES ...D All Books subject to recall All borrowers must regis- ter in the library to bor- row books for home use. All books must be re- ttirned at end of college year for inspection and repEiirs. Limited books must be returned within the four week limit and not renewed. Students must return all books before leaving town. Officers should arrange for the return of books wanted during their absence from town. Volumes of periodicals and of pamphlets are held in the library as much as possible. For special pur- poses they are given out for a limited time. Borrowers should not use their library privileges for the benefit of other persons. Books of special value and gift books, when the giver wishes it, are not al- lowed to circulate. Readers are asked to re- port all cases of books marked or mutilated. Do not deface books by marks and writing. Cornell University Library PR 4984.M53C2 Canterbury sonnets, 3 1924 013 522 457 Cornell University Library The original of tliis book is in tlie Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924013522457 Canterbury Sonnets. CANTERBURY SONNETS BY \ ARTHUR JAMES AIASON, D.D., Senior Canon. H. J. GoHLDEN, Ltd., Canterbury. 1919. All but one of these.Sofj&etsjwere. composed in July, 1919. .r..(Hp'o.i Yl l^i-l'^'iVlllU JANUARY iiih, 1899. MYmoiker's birthday it was, and she Was there, with yours ; and already a throng Fill'd Eastry's choir to hear and to see. With the ^iwgers- in 'white for -the high mass-song; And the best of places by your command Were kept for the hospital folk, whose age Your'ymtth' had tehdedi 'Like rock so>gremd. The heir of Saint AMtitiV hmitagep\. Stood Frederick, ready to mount and break At the altar above our first sweet Food; And the dear, dear voice of Stanton spake The words that gave me the good of good. Oh, many a sight I have lived to see In a score of years within Christ Church ; yet The best was when there upon bended knee I worshipp'd you, honour' d Margaret. " Honour'd Margaret " : Milton Sonnet X. Wordsworth Ecclesiastical Sonnets XIV. At one momeBt he. had retvtrned to Rome, alarmed at the unexpected difficul'Issg. of itbe,iniigswm.,,-:. ». «• -' a..^* .. ' « Bede Hist. Eecl. I. 25 Deprecamur te, Domine, in omni misericordia tua, ut anfetratur furor tuus et ira tua a civitate ista, et de domo sancta tua, quoniam peccavimus. Alleluia. SAINT AUSTIN'S LITANY. Forgive me, Master, if my feebler powers Attempt once more what thou thyself hast told In sonnet of the joyous day of old, When with the sign at which all evil cowers. And Christ in picture, toward the Eastgate towers The tall Italian, now serene and bold, March'd, while the company behind him roU'd Their intercession for this bourg of ours. That God's fierce anger might be turn'd away From Canterbury and His own abode P"or sin, their sin, — so ran the litany. They closed with Alleluia. And to-day f^ From us far more is that confession owed ; And who should praise the Lord as much as we ? See Stanley Historical memorials of Canterbury Lecture I, i ■ - ■■■: ' ., ■• ' ■ dm The itioflastesy of St. Andrew was built on the ancestral property of St. Gregory. These dedications cannot be traced directly to St. Austin, | but they appear f to 'belong to the inspiration of' the i original | mission. So perhaps do some dedications in the surrounding : country, like St. Cosmas and St. Damian at Blean. Bede Hist. Eccl. I. 33 eam in nomine Sancti Salvatoris Dei' et Domini nostri lesu Christi sacravit. This was the original dedication of what is now St. John Lateran. II. OUR DEDICATION. Our founder loved the names that should recall The sacred glories of his earlier home. He planted by his little northern Rome The convent of Saint Peter and Saint Paul. Saint Pancras first he honour'd. Later all The Maries foUow'd ; and Saint Andrew, whom In pity for our English heathendom He left in Gregory's paternal hall ; Saint George, the Four Crown'd Saints. And when it came To hallowing this patriarchal church, Rome did not fail her true evangelist. Taught by the Lateran, he grasp'd the Name Whose wealth of grace all centuries may search. Our God, our Lord, Saint Saviour, Jesus Christ. Brunihild, Qoeeii'of the Austra^an Fraiiks. III. QUENINGATE. Like rose from thistle, grapes on savage thorn, The child of Charibert, and grand-daughter To wild Clothaire, what power has made of her The ancestress of churches yet unborn r Our Queningate could tell, which every morn Saw her go by, a lonely worshipper, To where the ancient chronicles aver That Roman feet Saint Martin's floor had worn. Longsuffering heart ! she was not spared the taunt Of Gregory, because so many days Of wedded life had fail'd her lord to gain. Had Bertha lived like that proud queen, her aunt, Whose faith and zeal evoked the pontift's praise, His envoy would have preach'd to Ethelbert in vain. Richard Culmer, rector of Harbledown, in 1644, boasts of ' rattling down" ptoud BecEef's glassy^ bones' 'arid rriany^ thiii^ besides. IV, THE STATUE OF KING ETHELBERT. Let fewer stripes thy carcase lacerate, Blue Djck, that 'rattling down' our precious things, Thou didst not touch the row of sceplred kings That welcome pilgrims at the choir's fair gate. Whose was the hand that could delineate For Prior Chillenden those questionings. The unconceal'd solicitude that wrings The brow of Kent's first Christian potentate r All that his fathers knew, at God's command, He leaves behind him, now well on in years, For new creed, other altars, laws untried, Persuaded that the model in his hand Holds pledge of better things. The five great peers Around him smiling prove the venture justified. Purbeck marble has been found in the buried Roman city of Silchester. V. THE PATRIARCHAL CHAIR. Not Austin's ? What except a Rome-taught hand Would draw that outline classical ? The stone To Romans in their day of power was known. Say then, some member of the artist band That came with Biscop Benedict had plann'd For Theodore the Great a solemn throne, That he might rule all Britain as his own Behind our altar, where a throne should stand. Could Theodore, could Lanfranc, Laud, have guess'd The multitude of bishops round it press'd In council with Archbishop Davidson, Or what a pure succession his should be r Some weak, perhaps, few worldly, but not one Has sat a bad man in this holy see. Chapter Minutes, September 28, 1901. See the verses on the picture itself. VI. QUEEN EDIVA'S PICTURE. Stand, grave and graceful, — for the limner rude So far at least her lineaments express'd — Where yet the venerable ashes rest Hard by the spot where Martin's altar stood, — Town, church, and seaboard, farm and field and wood. With wary bowman ever watching, lest The Dane those peaceful acres should molest, All painted for the grateful brotherhood. -My protest lies recarded, when. of late The heirs of Christ Church and its agelong Jife Barter'd for present gain, while land was lean. The last fair fragment of that broad estate Bestow'd by Athelstan's crown'd mother, wife To Alfred's son, Ediva the good queen. Archbishop Herring's letter of enquiry is given, but in an inaccurate .form, in Woodruff and Danks Memorials of Canter- bury Cathedral p. 353. . VII. ST. ANSELM'S CHAPEL. Then all his thoughts shall perish : — sad, sad line, Could we esteem it true upon the spot Where like a chimneysweeper's lay to rot The brains of Anselm and of Bradwardine ! Those minds that could explore the vast design Of God made man, that could resolve the knot Of absolute existence, they are not — Not dead, but thinking on in light divine. Blest ignorance ! Had Herring only found Where Anselm lies, Aosta had reclaim'd, And mourning Canterbury felt the smart Of having lost, a saint whose lustre crown'd This church for ever, whom Pope Urban named Ihe pope and patriarch of a world apart. He preached on " men of goodwill " on the Christmas Day. All the great events of his life took place on Tuesdays. VIII. THE LANDING OF ST. THOMAS. NORTHBOXJRNE, the friend of my advancing day, Take thanks for this fine gift of yours, that shows Our sainted exile, landing toward the close Of that December eve on Sandwich quay. How luminous the air ! The level ray Athwart the foreground scarce a shadow throws. The exulting populace its champion knows ; In awe they spread their garments in the way. Comes he with peace ? To Henry reconciled, He cannot pardon those who crown'd his son. Men of goodwill alone shall feel him mild. Four weeks this Tuesday yet are his to live. Not ours to judge what more his death has won, The^martyr of our see's prerogative. When the piers of the central tower were strengthened a few years ago, part of the Norman capital, encased in tiie later work, was allowed to look out again, through a slit, upon the scene of the martyrdom. IX. THE MARTYRDOM. Low was the vault. Amidst the failing light Sharp cries broke in upon the evensong ; And Thomas down the stairway moving strong Met those malignants, priest to armed knight. They wrangled ; then Fitzurse upheaved to smite, And Tracy smote, and Thomas lay along ; And as he lay, Le Breton, heaping wrong On wrong, broke sword upon the dying wight. A felon clerk scatter 'd the mighty brain, And cried aloud, " He will not rise again." But Thomas rose. The church arose with him. The stones at which he fell lift up their voice ; Yon capital, which saw the dead so grim, And Lanfranc's turret, answer and rejoice. X. KING HENRY'S PENANCE. Dispute your miracles with reason tame ; — I know how Henry in the hour of need Exchanged his ermine for a pilgrim's weed, And walking barefoot from Saint Dunstan came To where his foe-friend lay ; there took the blame For words that led to unintended deed, And bared his shoulder to the scourge, and freed His conscience by a voluntary shame, Less kingly at the topmost of his power Than when beside that lowly sepulchre Amidst the wondering folk he sought release At cost so generous. In the selfsame hour William the Lion sat his prisoner, And all the foiled barons begg'd their liege-lord's peace. XI. THE SPOILING OF HUBEET'S TOMB. I love not those who rob the helpless dead. Had you but brought him back the things you took, Or given better, welcome were your look To learn what primate there had made his bed. But you, you pluck'd the mitre from his head, You stripp'd him naked, and at best forsook. Ring, staff, shoes lost, and — last affront to brook — The sacred cup from which his soul had fed. I ask not who you were that rudely burst That tomb. The outraged man who lay therein Was Hubert the crusader, he who led King Richard's host at Acre, who conversed On equal terms with courtly Saladin. I love not those who rob the illustrious dead. July 7 next year (1920) will be the seven hundredth anniversary of the Translation. Liberal Indulgences were given by Archbishop Stephen Langton. An old account speaks of the child 'looking about him sadly,' i.e.— seriously. Elias of Dereham and Walter of St. Alban's were the artists employed. XII. THE TRANSLATION OF ST. THOMAS. We greet, O Saint, thy year of jubilee. Not now, as fourteen jubilees ago, The runnels of the town with malmsey flow At cost of Stephen's long-encumber'd see. No King of France presents in almess free His peerless gem, while surging to and fro The multitudes believe that future woe Is shorten'd for them by the present glee. But still imagination may behold Young Henry's thoughtful eye, Elias bent Before the splendour of his work of gold, Stephen's pure joy in his accomplishment. And thee, receiving on thy marble shelf The homage of a greater prelate than thyself. Archbishop Bourchier's grandfather was a son of Edward III. The condition on which he was allowed to build his tomb where it is was that spoken of in the sonnet. St. Blaise. XIII. THE HIGH ALTAR. Arch high thy tomb, kingfs' cousin, that the light From that north window unrestrain'd may fall On our chief altar. Not a church in all Christ's realm can offer so august a sight. Saint Dunstan on his bier adorns the right, — Skill'd hand, blithe heart, and will imperial ; The left Saint Alphege, in the Danish brawl Kill'd for disdaining ransom. In the height O'erhead, the Armenian martyr rides the beam, Whom Plegmund bought at Rome. On topmost stair Saint Austin's throne looks down the church ; and then Saint Thomas in his golden ark stipreme. O living God, to think that men should dare To mar the noblest ever made by men ! Margaret, daughter of the Earl of Kent. XIV. THE WARRIORS' CHAPEL. And whose then is this riddling monument, Half in, half out ? Though unadorn'd and plain. Save for one shapely cross, the slabs contain An all-surpassing treasure, hither sent When that great dame, a second Maid of Kent, Came to be buried with her husbands twain. Stoop ; kiss it ; wonder at the hand profane That marr'd the altar-wall above it bent. A star of English history, Langton braved The mighty Innocent himself, when John Made shameful compact with the Italian see To crush us. Through his courage we were saved Let Runyraede declare how bright he shone, Prime founder of our charter'd liberty. Houmout and Ich dien. He was specially devoted to the mystery of the Holy Trinity, on whose feast he died. See the Will in Stanley p. 153. XV. THE BLACK PRINCE. High spirit, and / serve. Prince Edward chose Above the shields of war and peace to fix, Which flank his tomb in lines of six and six, Instructing how to meet or friends or foes. Above, the Holy Ghost proceeding shows The Father's mercy in the Crucifix. The casque a pillow now, his panther licks From sleek-fed lip the drops that Crecy knows. The achievements, at his much-mourn'd burial Once carried, high upon the baulk are slung, Where Thomas yet some faint aroma sheds. To us he gave the draperies of his hall, And on great days our monkish choir was hung In arras black, with swans and ladies' heads. XVI. SUDBURY'S HEAD. I saw in solemn Pontigny, where dwelt Three primates exiled by an unjust law, The hand of pure Saint Edmund ; and I saw At Sudbury, within the silver belt Of looping Stour, her Simon's head, that felt The bungling axe of Snout, or Quince, or Straw, What time young Richard, yet to kingcraft raw, Rode forth, revolt by pleasant words to melt. The headless corpse is here. To him we owe Our noble Westgate, half the city wall, And, in design, our transept, nave, and tower. Before his time, he stood the outspoken foe Of pilgrimage as mask for carnival. Loth ev'n on Wiclif to employ the crosier's power. The ancient name for Canterbury. XVII. MY MOUND. Some say the convent fishponds gave the soil To form the mount which is my garden's pride ; Some, that an earlier town it fortified Ere Rome round Doruvernum drew her coil. Certain it saved the convent builders' toil, When footing for their belfry it supplied To spread the pleasant music far and wide, Till came a day that melody to spoil. Before stout Courtenay stout Wiclif stood At Blackfriars. The ground began to lurch. The man on trial said that heav'n did frown Upon his judge ; the judge, that Mother Church Like Mother Earth must make her purging good. That earthquake threw the convent belfry down. Shakespeare Second Part of Henry IV Act IV Scene IV. The stone was over the altar of an earlier chapel of St. Edward, as mentioned by Gervase. XVIII. HENRY IV. How I came by the crown, O God forgive. Well might he think of pilgrimage, crusade, And whatsoever else might promise aid Before the Almighty, that his soul should live ; Well perch hard by, for masses purgative, Saint Edward's chantry, with the stone display'd On which Saint Wulfstan once his crosier laid. To Edward rendering what none else did give. Can God forgive, except a man repent ? Can man repent, who boasts the gain of sin ? I dare not judge, but shudder when I pore Long time upon the sumptuous monument On which the mortal man who lies within Wrote Soveraine, Soveraine, Soveraine, o'er and o'er. Martin V, appointed by the Council of Constance. The upper effigy represents the archbishop in pontifical state, the lower one as a decaying corpse. XIX. CHICHEL£Y. Storm'D at and trampled by the imperious pope To whom reforming- Constance lent a height Not reach'd by popes before, with such a plight The heart of Chicheley had not power to cope, — To guard our freedom on the slippery slope And yet a legate's duty not to slight. Lords, prelates, Oxford, strove to do him right And make for him at Rome a door of hope. In vain ; he died imploring his discharge. The contrast of what is and what appears Those effigies, above and under, tell Sadly. But four times on the nether marge He wrote a title that allay'd his fears, Emmanuel, and again Emmanuel. There is no mention of him in the Dictionary of National Biography- Strictly speaking forty-six. Itinerary vol. IV p. 41 (ed. L. T. Smith). XX. PRIOR CHILLENDEN. The brass which mark'd the place of his repose Has left no trace upon the modern floor. The long, long shelf that claims to keep the score Of British worth, of him no record knows. Yet he at Pisa sat to cure the woes Of Christendom. He went ambassador For English kings in splendour scarce before Exarapled. Here, his glorious works disclose In Lady Chapel, cloister, chapter, nave, Who Chillenden might be. No man stands higher, Not even Eastry, fifty years our head. In what he did for us and what he gave. Than this, the greatest builder of a prior That ever was in Christ CMirch, Leland said. Till within a few years of the completion of the tower, it was undecided how the tower was to finish. See Woodruif and Danks p. 208. XXI. THE ANGEL STEEPLE. As when a fair plant from a far-off shore Grows up and up before the gardener's eyes, And oft he wonders what superb surprise The stem he nurtured holds for him in store, So was it when the Angel Steeple bore. By that inevitable law that lies In living nature from the Only Wise, The perfect blossom of her corners four. Look how from my green lawn between the trees It soars to rest, as when the Powers and Thrones On outspread wing before the Presence come. No foreign land such tranquil beauty sees ; And even Gloucester, even Lincoln, owns The queenliest tower, this, in Christendom. The cathedral is wonderfully fortunate in possessing at this juncture the skill and patience of Mr. S- Caldwell for this work. Not all the glass was in place again when this was written. XXII. THE WINDOWS. The war is ended. Now our ancient glass Slowly — for cunning hand and patient brain Have much to do on every precious pane — Back to its rightful place begins to pass. In hues of ruby, sapphire, chrysopras, Saint Thomas works his miracles again ; The gospel type and antitype are plain ; The house of York kneel at the votive mass ; And all the set of mighty figures torn From yonder clerestory unfold the stem Of ancestors predestined, from whose blood Our Saviour in the appointed time was born. Enoch prepares to soar ; Mathusalem, Grasping his beard, descries the approaching flood. More's Utopia (Robinson's translation) Book I. Tennyson's Dream of Fair Women. xxiir. MORTON AND MORE. Gentle in speech, yet earned, too, and sage ; Men might before him boldly speak their mind. Morton, below in stately tomb reclined, This witness earn'd from one, his whilom page, Sir Thomas More, not inexpert to gauge The worth of public men. He heard behind The archbishop's chair stout Hythlodaye unwind The tale of his Utopia's golden age. Both men for hers may Canterbury claim. Tlie crow-step gateway up the London road Was Margaret Roper's. In a vault beneath The chapel opposite, which bears her name, The head, where none may vex it, is bestow'd. Which More's own 'Meg' is sung to have embraced in death. Prior Henry of Eastry built the choir screens. The hooks were removed at a later time, but the marks of 1 them are still visible. Aix in Provence. XXIV. THE TAPESTRY AT AIX. What folly changed the goodly wainscotting With which our choir two hundred years was lined ? Great Prior Henry never had in mind To leave the arcade without rich covering. Upon his hooks, the length of either wing, Goldstone and Bering, monks of Henry's kind, Set forth their glorious tapestries, design'd Our Saviour's life before all eyes to bring. Still men may see them ; but alas, how far From where the donors hung their colours gay ! Halfway from Kent to Tiber's bank, it makes The traveller sad to view them where they are, By sacrilegious robbers torn away And sold into captivity at Aix. Wb^sg the guesljon \ya.s put in Cpnvocation, no voice was raised. Warham then said that silence gave consent. LeoX. XXV. WARHAM. Note well the archbishop by whose voice began Our silent rupture of the papal yoke, Although in part the sentence to revoke He after sought ; who shielded, from the ban Brave Colet, foremost leader in the van Of our true reformation ; skill'd to cloke The heart of seriousness with quip and joke, Large, prudent, loveable, most modest man. He made Erasmus ; and Erasmus dared To speak of him, not as of those whom hope Taught him to flatter. In the letter sent As preface to his work supreme, he pair'd Our primate with the Medicean pope. Twin patron of his great New Instrument. This is the name which Erasmus assumes in the Colloquy. XXVI. PEREGRINATIO RELIGIONIS ERGO. Could optic glass reveal to later age Things now for ever vanish'd, we had seen Scarce better what this church of ours has been Than through Ogygius' tale of pilgrimage. Tuscus and Fuscus on the porch, the page Of Nicodemus chain'd, the dazzling sheen Of jewels touch'd by Goldstone's wand, the scene At Harbledown and earnest Colet's rage, All as in magic film before us move More clear than sense. But the magician sly Most draws us, laughing at himself to hit Pretence in us, by banter to reprove Dull error, and to purge the inward eye, Our christen'd Lucian, deadliest, kindliest wit. The king's account books sHow an item ' for disgamishing of a shrine ' at Canterbury. XXVII. THE DESTRUCTION OF THE SHRINE. We were too rich. If men had been content With humbler oflFerings to the martyr's grave, Perchance it had avail'd a part to save, When at that infamous ' disgarnishment ' The spoil in six and twenty cartloads went To Henry, and of all the shrine so brave No sign remain' d, except the stones that pave Our floor with their disorder insolent. To Cromwell and the devil give their due : — The bones they burn'd upon the indignant ground Were but feign'd relics of the saint. The true Lie, as by careful antiquaries found, Hard by the spot where Thomas first was laid. The skull shorn through by William Tracy's blade. I borrow the last three lines from an unpublished poem of my brother, George Edward Mason, on the Church of England. XXVIII. CRANMER. Our learned Dean one time desired to set A monument to Cranmer in the Crown. His figure on the doorway to the town Bears witness that his church does not forget That soul capacious of new thought, and yet Retentive of the pious forms come down From olden time, who sprang to saint's renown Out of the very clutch of Satan's net. English of English, hating all extremes, The prayers we say keep his remembrance new. Ensample of our island church he seems, That has the faith to doubt, the heart to guess, Pledged to be not infallible, but true. Free to repent, and daring to confess. Dean Nicholas Wotton. XXIX, CONTINUITY AMIDST CHANGE. God's finger marks the page that tells how Pole The same day with his royal cousin died. God push'd their policy and work aside, Without condemning the fastidious tool. He vanish'd like an eddy on the pool, And onward moved the broad majestic tide. His candlesticks our eucharist provide With light ; his benefaction aids our school. Near him kneels one not given much to swerve For fear of king or kaiser, whom his queen Thought to appoint Pole's successor. He toil'd Through changing forms, not discontent to serve Dean under Cranmer, under Pole still dean, Pean under Parker, with a conscience nothing soil'd A large part of Leverton has long been the property of my family. Nevile practically built the Great Court, as well as his own. Nevile took to Trinity, among other things, the Psalter containing the map of our buildings under Prior Wibert, so full of information for the antiquary. XXX DEAN NEVILE. By help of Cambridge I had hoped to frame Once more the chapel of a mighty son Of my own county, my own Leverton, Nevile, whom Trinity and Pembroke claim Among their worthiest. His princely fame Remains in our chief college paragon, And of its great quadrangles more than one Might justly have been graced with Nevile's name. He form'd a goodly chamber for his bones, His parents, and his brother, here to dwell In alabaster and rich effigy, — Gone now, and even the memorial stones Dispersed and broken. But it was not well To take our books, — no, not for Trinity. Meric Casaubon and his family. His father Isaac, though he held a canonry here, is buried in Westminster. Wilke is better known by the name of Wilkins, which he assumed. Saravia's early connexion with the Franciscans is now established : see Van Langeraad Guido de Bray p. 99. XXXI. CASAUBON AND SARAVIA. I cut anew the letterings that show Where the Casaubons lie in holy place. I would not that my footstep should efface Their learned record, as to choir T go. Well does our catholic foundation know The scholar canons, born of foreign race, Who fled from narrower creeds to the embrace Of our dear Mother. Here the Huguenot Du Moulin, Vos, Wilke, were beneficed ; And one, who tried Franciscan, tried the sect Of Leyden, found his peace these walls within. Strong doctor of the blessed eucharist And orders true, to wondrous task elect, To shrive what dying Hooker held for sin. Ikdn Basth'ke^Portrait of the King. Hooker Eccl. Polity Book V, Dedicatory Epistle. Our present Statutes are King Charles's. XXXII. KING CHARLES THE MARTYR. I placed our worn Ikdn Basiliki In the first martyr's empty chapel. There The royal sufferer appears at prayer, Crown fallen, broken sceptre at his knee. Like Stephen, Charles an open'd heaven can see, A better crown descending through the air. Behind, on wave-beat rock uplifted fair. Stands Cantei-btiry With He* towefs threej. By grace of God and Queen Elizabeth, The wise one wrote, "we are. King Charles's rule Yet holds in Christ Church ; and though men may kick Agairtst the guidance, that majestic death, Ending a life as' white as purest wool, For ever seal'd the type of English catholic. The wreaths were heaped up upon the tombs. The hymn was Neale's version of Quisquis valet numerate, which Benson had inserted in the Wellington College hymnbook. King George V and King Haakon of Norway. XXXIII. ARCHBISHOP BENSON'S FUNERAL. Since Pole, the rest are otherwhere. But when My patron, he whose best memorial Is that fair church above the Cornish Fal, Died by the kiss of God at Hawarden, This hallow'd floor was open'd once again ; And Bourchier, Stratford, Sudbury, with all Their fellows, deck'd for joyous festival, Prepared to welcome the new denizen. Love watch'd around him as in state he lay. When down the nave he pass'd, to sleep beneath, A song of saintly triumph rose on high. All England felt the glory of that day. Upon his breast was Queen Victoria's wreath, And two who now are kings stood reverently by. Lady Latimer, then Mrs. Coutts. The hangings were thought too gay, and were distributed to other churches. The day was the breaking-up of the King's School, and according to pious custom the boys made their com- munion at this service. XXXIV. THE CHAPEL OF THE HOLY INNOCENTS. A coal-cellar this was. The earth was piled High round that scaly pillar. A rough stair Came through the unglazed window. Everywhere Was profanation and disorder wild. Holland, whose pious bounty reconciled Saint Anselm's, reconciled this chapel fair, With lady's help, your name again to bear, O Children slaughter'd for the Holy Child. He offer'd on that blessed Lenten day. Not for three hundred years the crypt had seen The glory of the service of the Lord. Turquoise and silver gleam'd the altar gay, Too gay ; and stretching far beyond the screen Our happy schoolboys hail'd their King restored. Mr. and Mrs. Rawlinson gave the great candelabra at the altar, the altar cross, a magnificent chalice and paten, and the frontal used at high festivals. Edward Moore. Since these lines were written Dr. Page Roberts has resigned the Deanery of Salisbury. XXXV. CONTEMPORARIES. Let rae recount my comrades gone from hence ; — Farrar, more admirable when he bore His growing palsy, than in years before, When London hung upon his eloquence ; Learn'd Rawlinson, to whose munificence This church owes much ; to Holland even more ; Smith's quavering, silvery voice and gathered store Of peaceful wisdom, pure without pretence ; Walsh, Stuart, Danks ; and one whose memory green Will never fade, so long as men desire To know the mysteries to Dante known ; And two yet living, but too seldom seen. Page Roberts, ruling under Sarum spire, And you, dear Eden, on your northern throne. " These English boys, row upon row, with black or golden heads : " Pater Emerald Uthwart p. 19. XXXVI. THE KING'S SCHOOL. Dark heads and light, along whose ranks to look Made Walter Pater feel the artistic thrill That gave his Uthwart birth, what pages fill The deeds of famous men who conn'd their book Before you here beneath the archbishops' crook, — Kemp, Marlow, Harvey, — and of those who, still In fresh remembrance, went their blood to spill For us at study in this hallow'd nook ! Yours is the mother of all English schools. You, round the Norman Stairs to learning lent, Grow up, I fain would think, more readily Than others elsewhere, for you are not fools, Worthy those Angle boys to represent Whose fair hair woke the thoughts of Gregory. VICENNALIA. Oh, when is the garden at best, deem you ? When the crocus we brought from Sorrento is out In March, or the other in autumn, the blue; Or_ when the roses are flinging about Their masses of colour, and phloxes flame. Or flags and peonies, love-in-a-mist. And the African dainties we call by your nam,e. Or the pink little lilies with petals a-twist ; Or when the great beech tree shimmers in spring With points of copper before they break. And the coral buds on the apple tree bring Their promise of fruit for the homely bake ? I love to think that our sweet seventeen And the Eton boy and the Osborne boy Will ever remember the garden green Where they took their fill of the child's free joy. If only a daughter of later birth Might have play'd with them there on the mound's green sward! She saw but a single chamber on earth. And pass' d to the pleasance of Christ our Lord.