A lovely hamlet in the future blest,
Where Christians all might mutually agree
To leave their God to judge the human breast;
A place of refuge whitherto might flee
The hapless exile for his faith opprest,
And find his lately trammelled conscience free,
And for the scourge and gibbet—charity.
LXXVIII.
He thought he saw the various spires ascending
Of many churches, all of different kind,