Whom none could subjugate by war,
Quell'd by thy sword's resistless strife,
Turn'd to the arts of civil life.
What grief severe must Rome engross,
Widow'd at first by Leo's loss,
And next by Cæsar's mournful night,
Reft of her other shining light;
Living, what region did not dread.
What country not lament thee, dead?
So kind to nations once subdued,
So fierce to the barbarians rude,
That, those who fear'd not, must bewail,
And such as griev'd not, fears assail.
Rome, thy departed glory moan,
And weep thy luminaries gone.
This Leo, of whom the epitaph speaks, had been Roman pontiff, called to that eminence from being Bruno bishop of Spires. He was a man of great and admirable sanctity; and the Romans celebrate many of his miracles. He died before Henry, when he had been five years pope.
CHAP. XIII.
Of St. Edward, son of king Ethelred. [a.d. 1042—1066.]
In the year of our Lord's incarnation 1042, St. Edward, the son of Ethelred, assumed the sovereignty, and held it not quite twenty-four years; he was a man from the simplicity of his manners little calculated to govern; but devoted to God, and in consequence directed by him. For while he continued to reign, there arose no popular commotions, which were not immediately quelled; no foreign war; all was calm and peaceable both at home and abroad; which is the more an object of wonder, because he conducted himself so mildly, that he would not even utter a word of reproach to the meanest person. For when he had once gone out to hunt, and a countryman had overturned the standings by which the deer are driven into the toils, struck with noble indignation he exclaimed, "By God and his mother, I will serve you just such a turn, if ever it come in my way." Here was a noble mind, who forgot that he was a king, under such circumstances, and could not think himself allowed to injure a man even of the lowest condition. In the meantime, the regard
