Page:Poems Terry, 1861.djvu/204

Ho, sense! thou wouldst from glory turn,
 But soul thou shalt make sure!"

Then, as the time drew on apace
 That he by fire should die,
He kneeled again and prayed for grace
 To bear his agony.

Then, with a calm and pleasant smile,
 Saith he,—"However long
The day may seem, yet at the last
 It rings for even-song."

The sheriffs brought him to a green,
 Hard by the abbey-wall,
And seeing there the fagots piled,
 They spake aloud to all.

"A dinner sharp is mine to-day,"
 Quoth he, with joyful faith,
"But I shall sup on heavenly cates,
 "And triumph over death."

When he was fettered to the stake,
 They heaped the pile full high,
And called a priest, with "subtle words
 To shake his constancy.