Ecclesiastical Sonnets: VI. Persecution

Lament! for Dioclesian’s fiery sword
Works busy as the lightning; but instinct
With malice ne’er to deadliest weapon linked,
Which God’s ethereal storehouses afford:
Against the Followers of the incarnate Lord
It rages;—some are smitten in the field—
Some pierced beneath the unavailing shield
Of sacred home;—with pomp are others gor’d
And dreadful respite. Thus was Alban tried,
England’s first Martyr! whom no threats could shake;
Self-offered Victim, for his friend he died,
And for the faith—nor shall his name forsake
That Hill, whose flowery platform seems to rise
By Nature decked for holiest sacrifice.