Yet sometimes even here the spectral light
Broadens and brightens into sunny day,
And the soft winds (the sweeter for the war
Of elements,) blow thence to us Legends,--
Traditions fair of noble hearts as true,
Of honor pure, of love as sacred--deep--
Of valor great--of homes as fair and dear,
As fresher, better modern days have known.
I love the Legend of the Sleepers Seven,
Which comes from days so near the Manger--Cross,
It seems to me a tale of Holy Writ.
When Decius sate upon the Roman Throne,
And made his empire red with Christian blood,
Seven noble youths who dwelt at Ephesus
(Noble in birth and every Christian grace)
Refused to heed the Imperial will and bow
Themselves in worship to the pagan gods,
Preferring the reproach of Christ, to all
The wealth and honor of the Court of Rome;
And thus before the Royal Tyrant (who
It chanced was then at Ephesus) the youths
Bore witness to the faith more dear than life.
"The living God who made the earth and sky,
And dwells in Temples never made by hands,
Hath set within the Heaven of Heavens His Throne;
He holdeth in His hands a thousand spheres,
And hath created all that is create;
Jehovah infinite, eternal, good,
And wise, we humbly worship, serve, adore,
We cannot bow, O monarch, to thy gods.
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