<h3><SPAN name="41">A LITTLE BOY LOST</SPAN></h3>
‘Nought loves another as itself,<br/>
Nor venerates another so,<br/>
Nor is it possible to thought<br/>
A greater than itself to know.
<br/><br/>‘And, father, how can I love you<br/>
Or any of my brothers more?<br/>
I love you like the little bird<br/>
That picks up crumbs around the door.’
<br/><br/>The Priest sat by and heard the child;<br/>
In trembling zeal he seized his hair,<br/>
He led him by his little coat,<br/>
And all admired his priestly care.
<br/><br/>And standing on the altar high,<br/>
‘Lo, what a fiend is here!’ said he:<br/>
‘One who sets reason up for judge<br/>
Of our most holy mystery.’
<br/><br/>The weeping child could not be heard,<br/>
The weeping parents wept in vain:<br/>
They stripped him to his little shirt,<br/>
And bound him in an iron chain,
<br/><br/>And burned him in a holy place<br/>
Where many had been burned before;<br/>
The weeping parents wept in vain.<br/>
Are such things done on Albion’s shore?
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