• "Nought loves another as itself'
    Nor venerates another so'
    Nor is it possible to thought
    A greater than its self to know.


    "And,father,how can I love you
    Or any of my brothers more?
    I love you like the little bird

    That picks up crumbs around the door."
    The priest sat by and heard the child;
    In trembling zeal he seized his hair,
    He led him by his little coat,
    And all admired the priestly care.


    And standing on the altar high,
    "Lo, what a friend is here! said he;


    "One who sets reason up for judge
    Of our most holy mestery."


    The weaping child could not be heard,
    The weaping parents wept in vain:
    They stripped him to his little shirt'
    And bound him in an iron chain,
    And burned him in a holy place
    Where many had been burned before;
    The weeping parents wept in vain.
    Are such thin done on albion's shore?