With coax, and crawl, and wheedle;—
But I thought of Dives' burning tongue
And the parabolic needle.
And next I spied a priestly band,
In cassock, cope, and mitre,
Who diff'ring slightly from the Church,
Lent all their wits to spite her,—
With some who thought church-music gave
The Devil grievous handles;
And some who lit Polemic War