O! for a worthier art with skill to paint The light eternal that surrounds the saint: And justly mete the song of swelling praise The hero's virtues force our hearts to raise! {235} Shades of the great, the holy, and the brave, Whose earthly vestment slumbers in the grave, Teach us by bright example each to tread The heavenward pathway hallowed by the dead. What though the trembling element of earth May swell again the clay that gave it birth; What though again the wanton breeze reclaim The vital breath it lent to warm your frame; Not less ye live because our feebler race Your lordly presence now no more shall grace. Where'er the wild and careless winds can blow, Where'er the ocean's cold, dark waters flow, Where'er the heart heroic dares to die, There--there your fadeless memory lives for aye, Till Ruin claims her universal sway, And worn-out Time himself shall pass away. BUTE. [1] Edward Bruce was once King of Northern Ireland. [2] The symbols of the chief powers of Europe are taken from a royal masque in the reign of Henry VIII. The pomegranate represents Spain, the olive Italy, and the pine-cone Germany. [3] St. Thomas of Canterbury. {236} APPENDIX II (p. 51) HYMN ON ST. MAGNUS (Written by Bute at Kirkwall during a visit to Orkney, in July, 1867, _æt._ 19.) Glory be to Jesus In the highest heaven, For His grace triumphant Unto Magnus given-- Wondrous grace that made him, Looking on the Cross, For the love of Jesus Count all things but loss. Born to all earth's splendour, Cradled by a throne, He in very childhood Knew God's love alone; Nazareth's holy stripling Boyhood's pattern made; Through the years of manhood By his Saviour stayed. Like to Paul converted From a world of sin, He into our Master's Sheepfold entered in-- Till God's love within him Lit and warmed him through, As the bush of Horeb Burned but ever grew. With the saintly maiden. Whom he made his bride, For ten years a virgin Lay he side by side; {237} Like unto the angels Of our God in heaven, Who in carnal wedlock Give not nor are given. From the Lord's own altar Haled, the martyr died; Him the Lord's own offering His last breath supplied. Earthy lilies stricken Perish on the ground, But God's witness dying Fadeless glory found. Jesus, by whose mercy Magnus was victorious, Give us grace to follow In his footsteps glorious; So by Thee, our Saviour, Truth, and life, and way, We may come where he is In undying day. Glory to the Father, Glory to the Son, Glory to the Spirit, Three, and three in one, Glory from his creatures Both in earth and heaven To the King of Martyrs Endlessly be given. Amen. {238} APPENDIX III (p. 51) "OUR LADY OF THE SNOWS" (Written by Bute in November, 1867, _æt._ 20.)