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A
Little Boy Lost
"Nought
loves another as itself,
Nor venerates another so,
Nor is it possible to thought
A greater than itself 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 fiend is here!" said he:
"One who sets reason up for judge
Of our most holy mystery."
The
weeping child could not be heard,
The weeping 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 things done on Albion's shore?
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