LXXVII.

The rite is o’er. The band of brethren part, Once--and _but_ once--to meet on earth again! Each, in the strength of a collected heart, To dare what man may dare--and know ’tis vain! The rite is o’er: and thou, majestic fane! The glory is departed from thy brow!-- Be clothed with dust!--the Christian’s farewell strain Hath died within these walls; thy Cross must bow, Thy kingly tombs be spoil’d, the golden shrines laid low!