And English canons heard, And quietly demurred. Religion rests on evidence, of course, And on inquiry we must put no force. Difficulties still, upon whatever ground, Are likely, almost certain, to be found. The Theist scheme, the Pantheist, one and all, Must with, or e’en before, the Christian fall. And till the thing were plainer to our eyes, To disturb faith was surely most unwise. As for the Shade, who trusted such narration? Except, of course, in ancient revelation. And dignitaries of the Church came by. It had been worth to some of them, they said, Some hundred thousand pounds a year a head. If it fetched so much in the market, truly, ’Twas not a thing to be given up unduly. It had been proved by Butler in one way, By Paley better in a later day; It had been proved in twenty ways at once, By many a doctor plain to many a dunce; There was no question but it must be so. And the Shade answered, that He did not know; He had no reading, and might be deceived, But still He was the Christ, as He believed. And women, mild and pure, Forth from still homes and village schools did pass, And asked, if this indeed were thus, alas, What should they teach their children and the poor? The Shade replied, He could not know, But it was truth, the fact was so. * * * * * * * * * * Who had kept all commandments from his youth Yet still found one thing lacking—even Truth: And the Shade only answered, ‘Go, make haste, Enjoy thy great possessions as thou may’st.’ _EASTER DAY._ NAPLES, 1849. Through the great sinful streets of Naples as I past, With fiercer heat than flamed above my head My heart was hot within me; till at last My brain was lightened when my tongue had said— Christ is not risen! Christ is not risen, no— He lies and moulders low; Christ is not risen! What though the stone were rolled away, and though The grave found empty there?— If not there, then elsewhere; If not where Joseph laid Him first, why then Where other men Translaid Him after, in some humbler clay. Long ere to-day Corruption that sad perfect work hath done, Which here she scarcely, lightly had begun: The foul engendered worm Feeds on the flesh of the life-giving form Of our most Holy and Anointed One. He is not risen, no— He lies and moulders low; Christ is not risen! What if the women, ere the dawn was grey, Saw one or more great angels, as they say (Angels, or Him himself)? Yet neither there, nor then, Nor afterwards, nor elsewhere, nor at all, Hath He appeared to Peter or the Ten; Nor, save in thunderous terror, to blind Saul; Save in an after Gospel and late Creed, He is not risen, indeed,— Christ is not risen!