UNA.
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We thank thee, gentle Spenser, for thy song Of Una, virgin Una brave and sweet, Whose eloquence subdued the Satyr throng, And bowed the tearful monsters to her feet. Nor song alone but prophecy was thine, Forecasting many a Una wise and mild, Who spends her loving life in toil divine, Taming street Arabs petulant and wild, The gutter offspring of a race obscure; Cheerly to these within their noxious dens The Cross she brings, nor doubts its shining pure Grace through the gloom and mercy will dispense, And though to scare the ribald from her way No guardian lion by her side doth move, The shield of faith she bears hath sovran sway, And the strong spirit of all-conquering love. |
LIGHTHOUSE BUILT LIKE A CHURCH.
