So, loosing his shackles, they bade the sage listen To words from the mouth of the vicar of God: “Recant thy vile doctrines, and life we will give thee: Adhere, and thy road to the grave is soon trod!”
His doctrines—the truth, as proud Rome has acknowledged— On low, bended knee, in that vault he renounced; Yet with joy in their eyes, the high-priests retiring, “Confinement for life,” as his sentence pronounced.
But as they left him, their malice rekindled Fires that their threats had subdued in his breast: Clanking his chains, with fierce ardor he muttered, “But it does move, and tyrants can ne’er make it rest.”
Belshazzar.
