“Cassel” [poem]
The way was long and yet twas sweet.
Through many a shady soft retreat
Where the broad willow semblance gave
Of weeping beauty to the wave
And elm with massy foliage prest
And feathery aspens quivering crest
And many a spiry poplar glade
And hazels rich entangled shade
While onward as advancing still
From Omars plain 1 to Cassels hill 2
Far yet more far the landscape threw
Its deep immeasurable blue
Oh beautiful those plains were showing
Where summer sun was hotly glowing
Many a battle field lay spread
Once the dark dwelling of the dead
But fruitful now their champaigns wave
With bending grain on soldiers grave.
While far beneath in long array
The priestly orders wound their way 3
Heavy the massive banners rolled
Rich wrought with gems and stiff with gold
While as the cross came borne on high
Beneath its crimson canopy
Many the haughty head that bowed
Sunk his high crest the warrior proud
The priest his glance benignant cast
And murmured blessings as he past
While round the hillside echoing free
Rung the loud hymning melody
Many a monkish voice was there
Many a trumpet rent the air
And softer, sweeter yet the same
The sounds in failing cadence came
No marvel that the pomp and pride
Of Romes religion thus should hide
The serpent folds beneath that roll
The poison mantling in the bowl. 4
Through many a shady soft retreat
Where the broad willow semblance gave
Of weeping beauty to the wave
And elm with massy foliage prest
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5And feathery aspens quivering crest
And many a spiry poplar glade
And hazels rich entangled shade
While onward as advancing still
From Omars plain 1 to Cassels hill 2
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10Far yet more far the landscape threw
Its deep immeasurable blue
Oh beautiful those plains were showing
Where summer sun was hotly glowing
Many a battle field lay spread
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15Once the dark dwelling of the dead
But fruitful now their champaigns wave
With bending grain on soldiers grave.
While far beneath in long array
The priestly orders wound their way 3
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20Heavy the massive banners rolled
Rich wrought with gems and stiff with gold
While as the cross came borne on high
Beneath its crimson canopy
Many the haughty head that bowed
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25Sunk his high crest the warrior proud
The priest his glance benignant cast
And murmured blessings as he past
While round the hillside echoing free
Rung the loud hymning melody
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30Many a monkish voice was there
Many a trumpet rent the air
And softer, sweeter yet the same
The sounds in failing cadence came
No marvel that the pomp and pride
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35Of Romes religion thus should hide
The serpent folds beneath that roll
The poison mantling in the bowl. 4