AN EPISTLE.
66
Earth trembled, nations perished at his nod ; 
His Law has yielded to a milder sway. 
Theirs is the God of Love whose feet have trod 
Our common earth — draw near to him and pray, 
Meek-faced, dove-eyed, pure-browed, the Lord of life, 
Know him and kneel, else at your throat the knife! 
XXVII.
This is the God of Love, whose altars reek 
With human blood, who teaches men to hate ; 
Torture past words, or sins we may not speak 
Wrought by his priests behind the convent-grate. 
Are his priests false ? or are his doctrines weak 
That none obeys him? State at war with state. 
Church against church — yea. Pope at feud with Pope 
In these tqssed seas what anchorage for hope ? 
XXVIII.
Not only for the sheep without the fold 
Is the knife whetted, who refuse to share 
Blessings the shepherd wise doth not withhold 
Even from the least among his flock — - but there 
Midmost the pale, dissensions manifold. 
Lamb flaying lamb, fierce sheep that rend and tear.