In broken accents he is scarce allowed
To falter out his blessing on the crowd.
Amen is echoed by infernal howl,
And scrambling spirits seize his parting soul.
ONCE I was common wood, a shapeless log,
Thrown out a kennel post for every dog;
The workman, yet in doubt what course to take,
Whether I'd best a saint, or hog-trough make,
After debate resolved me for a saint,
And thus famed Loyola I represent:
And well I may resemble him, for he
As stupid was, as much a block as me.
My right leg maimed, at halt I seem to stand,
To tell the wounds at Pampelune sustained.[1]
My sword, and soldier's armour here had been,
But they may in Montserrat's church be seen:
Those to the blessèd Virgin I laid down
For cassock, sursingle, and shaven crown,
The spiritual garb, in which I now am shown.[2]
With due accoutrements, and fit disguise
I might for sentinel of corn suffice;
As once the lusty god of old stood guard,
And the invading crows from forage scared.
Now on my head the birds their relics leave,
And spiders in my mouth their arras weave;
- ↑ In the early part of his life Loyola served in the Spanish army against the French, and at the siege of Pampeluna received a severe wound in his left leg, and had his right thigh shattered by a cannon ball. The perusal of the Lives of the Saints during the progress of a lingering cure heated his imagination with religious enthusiasm, and is said to have given that direction to the rest of his life which finally led to the establishment of the order of Jesuits.
- ↑ Before he went to Jerusalem, Loyola hung up his arms in the Church of Montserrat, and dedicated himself to the Virgin.
