When he protested, not too solemnly, That for a world's achieving maintenance The crust of overdone divinity Lacked aliment, they called it recreance; And when he chose through his own glass to scan Sick Europe, and reduced, unyieldingly, The monk within the cassock to the man Within the monl, they called it heresy. And when he made so periously bold As to be scattered forth in black and white, Good fathers looked askance at him and rolled Their inward eyes in anguish and afright; There were some of them did shake at what was told, And they shook best who knew that he was right. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE GARDEN OF ADONIS by EMMA LAZARUS THE KING'S JEWEL by PHOEBE CARY VERSES WRITTEN IN AN ALBUM OF A LADY'S COMMON-PLACE BOOK by THOMAS MOORE MEAPLE LEAVES BE YOLLOW by WILLIAM BARNES ECHOES OF SPRING: 1 by MATHILDE BLIND |