SONNET.
EDMUND BURR& AND THE FRENCH REVOLUTION.
THE age was sordid; Christian hope burned low ; Old thrones of Wisdom tottered insecure; Old crowns of Kings, like mist that o'er a moor When tempest nears it wavers to and fro, Shook on weak heads portending overthrow By some deserved. The Gallic Siren's lure sang to their death-doom prince at once and boor Blind pupils of Helvetius and Rousseau.
Daily to England's shores the infection spread Of Unbelief and Faith Republican In pagan league. Then forth there stepped one man : He stood betwixt the living and the dead : He raised his hand. The Spirits of darkness fled :— To them that Prophet's rod was flail and fan.
AUBREY DE VERE.