The Sepulchral Recesses: Ken

Ye holy gates, open your calm repose,
Between him and the world your barriers close ;
Nought hath he but his lyre and sacred key,
Which the world gave not, nor can take away.
One of that Seven against a king he stood,
The world was with him in his fortitude.
One of that Five, he scorn'd her flattering breath,
And firm in strength which wisdom cherisheth,
Where Truth and Loyalty had mark'd the ground,
Stood by that suffering king, allegiance bound ;
Then as in him his Saviour stood reveal'd,
The world in anger rose, against him steel'd,
And drove him from her — Open your repose,
And, her and him between, your heavenly barriers close.