ST. PETER'S CHAIR.

New Zealander, Volume 7, Issue 555, 9 August 1851, Page 3

ST. PETER'S CHAIR.

There is a Chair an ancient one, Within a City time-renowned, Campania's vineyards woo the sun There, and that spot is holy ground; For haughtiest heads and monarchs crown'd Have kissed the dust that chair around. Or ever Hapsburgh's sceptred hand Was known, or Capets kingly line The Power that filled that Chair was grand, Or ever Guelph or Gibelline In deadly feud made rapier shine The Triple crown, proud Chair was thine! Sitting in thee has Hildebrand * Awed boldest monarchs by his frown, Or flung from out his crosiered hand Cities, in gift as rain drops down. E'en princely Leo stooped to own The empire that he claimed, thine own. Those times are gone, and fills thee now An old man with a feeble heart Who feels the crown oppress his brow Yet cannot from his anguish part, Who rises with an anxious start To play his forced and puppet part. How changed ! since from that seat a sound Could wake all passions in the breast, And wrap the bloody cross around The stalely warriors armed vest. Could rouse to war, or lull to rest The mighty nations of the West. The voice is mute— or heard no more— The giant shadow frights not now— Nor all the crafts of priestly lore Can raise again that fallen brow. Yet still high thoughts, and solemn care Will guide the blest apostle's Chair.

St. George.

Auckland, August 5th, 1851

* The son of a carpenter at Sadona, in Tuscany, afterwards raised to the Pontifical dignity by the title of Gregory the VII; celebrated for his unrivalled power and talents.