The sceptre's might, the crosier's pride

The sceptre's might, the crosier's pride, Ye do not fear; No conquest blade, in life-blood dyed, Drops terror here— Let there not lurk a subtler snare, For wisdom's footsteps to beware; The shackle and the stake, Our Fathers fled; Ne'er may their children wake A fouler wrath, a deeper dread; Ne'er may the craft that fears the flesh to bind, Lock its hard fetters on the mind; Quenched be the fiercer flame That kindles with a name; The pilgrim's faith, the pilgrim's zeal, Let more than pilgrim kindness seal; Be purity of life the test, Leave to the heart, to Heaven, the rest.