And  bid  them  our  old  war-cry  hear,
"  God  is  my  Light  i :  whom  need  I  fear  !  "
How  bleak,  that  hour,  across  our  purpose  high,
Sweeps  the  chill  damping  shade  of  thoughtless  years
gone  by !  lo

How  count  we  then  lost  eve  and  morn.
The  bell  unwelcom'd,  prayer  unsaid.
And  holy  hours  and  days  outworn
In  youth's  wild  race.  Sin's  lesson  newly  read  !

Then  deem  we,  "  ill  could  Angels  brook

That  lore  that  on  our  lips  we  took,

On  lips  profane  celestial  lore  "  :

And  hardly  dare  we  keep  the  door.
Though  sentries  sworn  :  the  memory  thrills  so  keen,
How  with  unready  hearts  at  first  we  ventured  in.      20


SPOLIATION

But  sadder  strains,  and  direr  bodings  dark.
Come  haunting  round  th'  Almighty's  captive  ark,
By  proud  Philistian  hosts  beset,
With  axe  and  dagger  newly  whet
To  hew  the  holy  gold  away.
And  seize  their  portion  as  they  may.
Fain  would  we  fix  th'  unswerving  foot,  and  bare
The  strong  right  arm,  to  share
The  glorious  holy  war ;  but  how  undo
The  knot  our  father  tied  ?    Are  we  not  spoilers  too  ?  10

^  "  Dominus  Illummatio  mea  "  is  the  motto  of  the  University
of  Oxford.
430  MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS

How  for  God's  Altar  may  that  arm  be  bold.
Where  cleaves  the  rust  of  sacrilege  of  old  ?
Oh,  would  my  country  once  believe.
But  once  her  contrite  bosom  heave.
And  but  in  wish  or  vow  restore
But  one  fair  shrine  despoil'd  of  yore  !
How  would  the  windows  of  th'  approving  sky
Shower  down  the  dews  on  high  !
Arm'd  Levites  then,  within  the  Temple  dome.
Might  we  the  foe  await,  nor  yet  profane  God's  home.  20

Vain  disappointing  dream  !  but  oh  !  not  vain.
