The exiled sage forget his home.
On islets of the inland seas,25
On stormy cape, in valley lone,
Or folded deep in verdant leas,
The scattered haunts of Learning shone.
But ev’n the Norman’s victor palm,
By carven arch or soaring spire,30
Could ill secure the cloistral calm,
And feebly guard the living fire.
What larger flame De Bicknor fed