THE STAKE. 435 
Through the narrow turret cell, 
Within sound, above, around, 
- Echoed by the hollow ground 
Of the awful tolling bell 
That doth peal the frequent knell ; 
Through the death-fire he must grasp thee, 
Who, with heart and nerve unshrinking, 
From the cup thou pourest drinking, 
Undismayed would own and clasp thee. 
In the quiet greenwood wandering, 
Over deep thoughts simply pondering, 
Unawares my foot hath found thee, 
With all pleasant things around thee ; 
But thyself, oh ! far more sweet 
Than ought blossoming at thy feet. 
From dark dreamings thou hast freed me, 
And I follow’d thy far speeding 
Full of thee, and little heeding 
Whither thou at last would’st lead me. 
And lo! here, in dark walls chainéd, 
From al] I so love restrainéd ; 
From the happy summer glades, 
From the flower-lighted shades ; 
Shut out from the open sky, 
Fettered and condemned I lie ; 
And if I persist to cherish 
Thy pure words, by men denied, 
And in love of thee abide, 
For thy sake and on thy side 
In my green youth I must perish. 
’Tis not for my father’s child 
At the sight of death to falter ; 
For my country’s denizen, 
Mid evil times and evil men, 
From her elder days’ pure altar, 
From the doctrines undefiled, 
And the holy laws compiled 
Far in the ancient eastern wild, 
To turn back to the dreamings rude, 
The traditions that delude 
