X.
MARTYRS’ MEMORIAL.
Such natural debts of love our Oxford knows,
So many ancient dues undesecrate,
I marvel how the landmark of a hate
For witness unto future time she chose;
How out of her corroborate ranks arose
The three, in great denial only great,
For Art’s enshrining! . . Thus, averted straight,
My soul to seek a holier captain goes:
That sweet adventurer whom Truth befell