. Annals of King's Chapel from the Puritan age of New England to the present day. he fresh-cut marbles oer; Those two of earlier date our eyes enthrall:The proud old Britons by the western door;And hers, the lady of colonial virtues live in long-drawn classic phrase, — The fair Francisca of the southern wall. Ay! those were goodly men that Reynolds drew,And stately dames our Copleys canvas holds;To their old church, their royal master, true,Proud of the claim their valiant sires had earned,That gentle blood, not lightly to be spurnedSave by the churl ungenerous Nature moulds. All va
. Annals of King's Chapel from the Puritan age of New England to the present day. he fresh-cut marbles oer; Those two of earlier date our eyes enthrall:The proud old Britons by the western door;And hers, the lady of colonial virtues live in long-drawn classic phrase, — The fair Francisca of the southern wall. Ay! those were goodly men that Reynolds drew,And stately dames our Copleys canvas holds;To their old church, their royal master, true,Proud of the claim their valiant sires had earned,That gentle blood, not lightly to be spurnedSave by the churl ungenerous Nature moulds. All vanished I It were idle to complain That ere the fruits shall come the flowers must fall; Yet somewhat we have lost amid our gain, Some rare ideals time may not restore, — The charm of courtly breeding, seen no more,And reverence, dearest ornament of all. 1 The third, fourth, and fifth stanzas 2 jhg gilded ornaments on the organ. of this poem have already been quoted Cf. atiU, pp. 128, 331, connection with our account of theShirley monument. SeeaiiU,\:>. l^l,/io( OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES. DR. HOLMESS POEM. 627 Thus musing, to the western wall I came. Departing, — lo ! a tablet fresh and fair,Where glistened many a youths remembered nameIn golden letters on the snow-white stone, —Young lives these aisles and arches once have known. Their countrys bleeding altar might not spare. These died that we might claim a soil unstainedSave by the blood of heroes; their betjucsts, A realm unsevered and a race unchained. Has purer blood through Norman veins come down From the rough knights that clutched the Saxons crownThan warmed the pulses in these faithful breasts ? These, too, shall live in historys deathless page, High on the slow-wrought pedestals of with the heroes of remoter age :They could not die who left their nation free,Firm as the rock, unfettered as tlie sea, Its heaven unshadowed by the cloud of shame. While on the storied past our memory dwells,Ou
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