Wherever The Catholic Sun Doth Shine, There’s

The Tender Evenlode That Makes Her Meadows Hush To Hear The Sound Of Waters Mingling In The Brakes, And Binds My Heart To English Ground. A Lovely River, All Alone, She Lingers In The Hills And Holds A Hundred Little Towns Of Stone, Forgotten In The Western Wolds.

For No One, In Our Long Decline,so Dusty, Spiteful And Divided,had Quite Such Pleasant Friends As Mine,or Loved Them Half As Much As I Did. [stanza 3]the Library Was Most Inviting:the Books Upon The Crowded Shelveswere Mainly Of Our Private Writing:we Kept A School And Taught Ourselves. [stanza 15]from Quiet Homes And First Beginning,out To The Undiscovered Ends,theres Nothing Worth The Wear Of Winning,but Laughter And The Love Of Friends. [stanza 22]you Do Retain The Song We Set,and How It Rises, Trips And Scans?you Keep The Sacred Memory Yet,republicans? Republicans?[stanza 36]

For No One, In Our Long Decline, So Dusty, Spiteful And Divided, Had Quite Such Pleasant Friends As Mine, Or Loved Them Half As Much As I Did.

But If I Be Asked What Sign We May Look For To Show That The Advance Of The Faith Is At Hand I Would Answer By A Word The Modern World Has Forgotten: Persecution. When That Shall Once More Be At Work It Will Be Morning.

Protest Against Industrial Capitalism From One Aspect Or Another Is Universal: So Was The Protest Against The Condition Of European Religion At The Beginning Of The Sixteenth Century.