Enthrone deceit, and place beneath its ban
The honest heart, that dares its sentence brave?
Full well I trow the Prince of Darkness fits
The blood of martyrs shed by hypocrites.
XXXVI.
"Hearken for once; just as the conscience pure
Is here God's presence to my wayward will—
Not to constrain it, but to kindly lure
It on by duty's path, from every ill;
So to the State the Christian Church, secure
From human thrall, should be a conscience, still
Ne'er to constrain, save by that heavenly light
Which bares the Wrong, and maketh plain the Right."
XXXVII.
"No more, friend Williams," said the Elder here,
"No more will we on this grave theme delay;
My hopes were high, and 'twas an object dear
To shed some light on thy benighted way;
But still wilt thou with sinful purpose steer
Thy little bark against the tempest's sway;
On mayst thou go—I cannot say God speed!
But would thy object were some better deed.
XXXVIII.
"Couldst thou renounce thy purpose here to base
A State where heretics may refuge find,
I do not doubt that to some little grace
The Plymouth rulers would be well inclined;
But as it is, perhaps some other place,
Still more remote, may better suit thy mind;
But till the morn as may a guest befit,
My message hither do I pretermit."
