Poor Hodge and the Rev. Sans Foy

Poor Hodge prays hard — the wise man smiles em-bower'd;
The priest-philosopher, who lurks within
That screen of Christmas hollies, though empower'd
For other ends, takes pay for conscious sin:
What does the white-robed hireling, simpering thus
At his poor neighbour's spiritual desire?
Of all that honest faith incredulous,
The tainted vestal mocks the holy fire!
He lives beneath that little twinkling creed
Which counts for light at Tubingen; his list
Of Christian sympathies is brief indeed:
And yet he speaks right loyally for Christ!
Ah! traitorous lips! so Judas falsely kiss'd
The Truth, with thirty pieces for his meed.