in another world,

And whose far-stretching shadow awed our own.

From many a proud monastic pile, o'erthrown,

Fear-struck, the hooded inmates rushed and fled;

The web, that for a thousand years had grown

O'er prostrate Europe, in that day of dread

Crumbled and fell, as fire dissolves the flaxen thread.

XXIV

 The spirit of that day is still awake, And spreads himself, and shall not sleep again; But through the idle mesh of power shall break 18Like billows o'er the Asian monarch's chain; Till men are filled with him, and feel how vain, Instead of the pure heart and innocent hands, Are all the proud and pompous modes to gain The smile of Heaven;—till a new age expands Its white and holy wings above the peaceful lands. 

The spirit of that day is still awake,

And spreads himself, and shall not sleep again;

But through the idle mesh of power shall break

18

Like billows o'er the Asian monarch's chain;

Till men are filled with him, and feel how vain,

Instead of the pure heart and innocent hands,

Are all the proud and pompous modes to gain

The smile of Heaven;—till a new age expands

Its white and holy wings above the peaceful lands.

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