England and Yesterday — Oxford - II. The Old Dial of Corpus

THE OLD DIAL OF CORPUS.

Warden of hours and ages, here I dwell, Who saw young Keble pass, with sighing shook For good unborn; and, towards a willow nook, Pole, princely in the senate and the cell;

And doubting the near boom of Osney bell, Turning on me that sweetly subtile look, Erasmus, in his breast an Attic book: Peacemakers all, their dreams to ashes fell.

Naught steadfast may I image nor attain Save steadfast labour; futile must I grope After my god, like him, inconstant bright.

But sun and shade must unto you remain Alternately a symbol and a hope, Men, spirits!

of Emmanuel your Light.

III.