ECCLESIASTICAL SONNETS
XLV. LAUD
ECCLESIASTICAL SONNETS
PREJUDGED by foes determined not to spare, An old weak Man for vengeance thrown aside, Laud, “in the painful art of dying” tried, (Like a poor bird entangled in a snare Whose heart still flutters, though his wings forbear To stir in useless struggle) hath relied On hope that conscious innocence supplied, And in his prison breathes celestial air. Why tarries then thy chariot? Wherefore stay, O Death! the ensanguined yet triumphant wheels, 10 Which thou prepar’st, full often, to convey (What time a State with madding faction reels) The Saint or Patriot to the world that heals All wounds, all perturbations doth allay?