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Of times long past, when many an error reigned
As yet unchallenged, blinding all alike
To truths since seen as in the midday blaze.
Beyond their fellows, keenly had they pierced
Error's thick-veiling mists, and Truth discerned
In her diviner forms; aside had flung
Falsehoods long honored, maxims cherished long
That mighty ills had wrought; the good, the right,
In their great hearts they worshipped; these they sought,
As misers search for gold, with deathless love;
Clung to them found, as with the grasp of fate!
What if perchance from ardor so intense
Of quenchless earnestness, their zeal o'erglowed
At times, and they—their vision not yet clear—
There erred where all the world had erred till then?
Ah! ye who meanly seek to tear away
The honors thickly clustered round their brows,
Yours—yours the lack of heavenly charity
Ye charge on them; yours with far less defence!
On you returned at last shall rest the shame;