He hasteth to teach and preach, as the war-horse rusheth to the battle,
And to pave a way for truth, would break up the Apennines of prejudice:
He wearieth by stale proofs, where none looked for a reason,
And to the listening ear will urge the false argument of feeling.
So hath it often been, that, judging by results,
The hottest friends of truth have done her deadliest wrong.
Alas! for there are enemies without, glad enough to parley with a traitor,
And a zealot will let down the drawbridge, to prove his own prowess:
Yea, from within will he break away a breach in the citadel of truth,
That he may fill the gap, for fame, with his own weak body.