ST. DOMINIC.

New Zealand Tablet, Volume IV, Issue 182, 22 September 1876, Page 6

ST. DOMINIC.

BY MAKIE.

Dost thou faing tbc fame of tLe ages past, And tell proud I ales of the days of yore ? Ah ! pageant glory, too bright to last ! Ah ! hero days, that return no more ! ' Dost thou vaunt the skill of the knightly lance, And paint the pride of tlie war array ? 'Tis the boastful dream of a dead romance — "Tie a lance long sheathod in the rust's decay. Thy heroes fought for an earthly fame — For the lurid flash and the lightning's glow, And the trumpet's Taunt of the victor's name Is lost in the wail of his battle's woe ; But I sing of a fame that shall ne'er decay, Though, its dawn -light rose in the gray old Pust, But its source was the liglit of an endless day — Through the " vast forever" its beams shall last. Dost thou show the castles of stately stone — The turrets proud and the bannered height ? Dost thou boast of the conqueror's lofty throne, Of his boundless realm and his kingly might ? But the ivy hangs on the ruined wall, And the moss is green on the mould'ring tower, And years have fled since the kingdom's fall, And earth is throng'd with the tombs of power. I paint the pride of a conflict blest — r Tis an olden strife, but it rageth yet ; I sing of a bright lance still in re9t, But its edge was ne'er by a blood-drop wet. My stately tower was builded fair, In the golden days of "the long ago." But the banners wave in their beauty there, And the walls are white in their first fresh glow. I siug of a kingdom grand and vast ; It lies at the foot of a rock -built throne. That realm first rose in the far-off Past, And its strength is great as in ages flown ; And I tell of a founder brave and strong — A hero arm and a lance well-tried ; The fearless foe of the hydra Wrong — The mighty slayer of the^eerpent Pride. His field of fame is the lowly cell, His coat of mail is a monk's robe white, And the magic arms he hath used so well Are the Word of Tiuth and the voice of Eight. An Order noble and bravo and true — This is the realm he hath founded fair j The stately tower, so old, yet new, That gleams in its earliest freshness rare. r lhe saving Cross is its banner bright, Where the face of a conquering victim pleads, And the hosts are linked with a chain of might — 'Tis the rosy wreath of the mystic beads. O wondrous Dominic ! leader strong ; O king of a glorious subject-train ! The future's centuries, bright and long, Shall see no end of thine ancient reign — Shull see no pause in thy olden strife, The hero-work by thy hand begun, Till thy hosts are crowned with eternal life, The guerdon fair of the deeds well done. — ' San Francisco Monitor and Guardian.'