From high-arched alcoves, through resounding halls,
Clad in full robes majestic Science calls,
Tireless, unsleeping, still at Nature's feet
Whate'er she utters fearless to repeat,
Her lips at last from every cramp released
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That Israel's prophet caught from Egypt's priest.
I see the statesman, firm, sagacious, bold,
For life's long conflict cast in amplest mould:
Not his to clamor with the senseless throng
That shouts unshamed "Our party, right or wrong,"
But in the patriot's never ending fight
To side with Truth, who changes wrong to right.
Let not the mitre England's prelate wears
Next to the crown whose regal pomp it shares,
Though low before it courtly Christians bow,
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The Stoics and St. Paul.
