158. Ethelwald
|
{276} (From St. Bede's Metrical
History of St.
Cuthbert.) |
BETWEEN two comrades dear, |
Zealous and true as
they, |
Thou, prudent Ethelwald, didst bear |
In that high home the
sway. |
A man, who ne'er, 'tis said, |
Would of his graces
tell, |
Or with what arms he triumphèd |
Over the Dragon fell. |
So down to us hath come |
A memorable word, |
Which in unguarded season from |
His blessed lips was
heard. {277} |
It chanced, that, as the Saint |
Drank in with
faithful ear |
Of Angel tones the whispers faint, |
Thus spoke a
brother dear: |
"Oh, why so many a pause, |
Thwarting thy words'
full stream, |
Till her dark line Oblivion draws |
Across the broken
theme?" |
He answered: "Till thou seal |
To sounds of earth
thine ear, |
Sweet friend, be sure thou ne'er shalt feel |
Angelic voices
near." |
But then the hermit blest |
A sudden change
came o'er; |
He shudders, sobs, and smites his breast, |
Is mute, then
speaks once more: |
"Oh, by the Name Most High, |
What I have now let
fall, |
Hush, till I lay me down to die, |
And go the way of
all!" {278} |
Thus did a Saint in fear |
His gifts celestial
hide; |
Thus did an Angel standing near |
Proclaim them far
and wide. |
Littlemore.
1844. |