"In holy Rome the only power is gold;
There all is bought—there every thing is ſold.
Becauſe ſhe is the very way to right,
There truth is periſhed by unholy ſleight.
Even as the wheel turns, Rome to evil turns,
Rome, that ſpreads fragrance as when incenſe burns.
Rome wrongs mankind, and teaches men the road
To flee far off from Righteouſneſs' abode!
To ſeek for ruinous and diſgraceful gain,
The pallium's ſelf with ſimony to ſtain.
If aught you wiſh, be ſure a goodly bribe
Will haſte the ſealing of the lingering ſcribe.
Riſe! follow! let your penny go before,
Seek boldly then the threſhold; fear no more
That any ſtumbling-blocks will bar the way,
The Pope's own favor you can get for pay—
Without that help, 'tis beſt to keep away."
The opening of this monkiſh ſatire on the corruptions of its barbarous age, glows with a deſcription of the Heavenly Land more beautiful than ever before was wrought in verſe. This a great ſcholar of our time has taken from the poem and brought within the reach and notice of the world (Trench). It alſo has been re-woven into ſimple Engliſh verſe, and has received the appropriate name of The Celestial Country.
