Ecclesiastical Sonnets - Part II. - VIII - Crusaders
Furl we the sails, and pass with tardy oars Through these bright regions, casting many a glance Upon the dream-like issues, the romance Of many-coloured life that Fortune pours Round the Crusaders, till on distant shores Their labours end; or they return to lie, The vow performed, in cross-legged effigy, Devoutly stretched upon their chancel floors. Am I deceived? Or is their requiem chanted By voices never mute when Heaven unties Her inmost, softest, tenderest harmonies; Requiem which Earth takes up with voice undaunted, When she would tell how Brave, and Good, and Wise, For their high guerdon not in vain have panted!
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"Furl we the sails, and pass with tardy oars..."
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