R. H. Froude Yes, mark the words, deem not that Saints alone Are Heaven's true servants, and His laws fulfil Who rules o'er just and wicked. He from ill Culls good, He moulds the Egyptian's heart of stone To do him honour, and e'en Nero's throne Claims as His ordinance; before Him still Pride bows unconscious, and the rebel will Most does His bidding, following most its own. Then grieve not at their high and palmy state, Those proud bad men, whose unrelenting sway Has shatter'd holiest things, and led astray CHRIST's little ones: they are but tools of Fate, Duped rebels, doom'd to serve a POWER they hate, To earn a traitor's guerdon, yet obey. |