I cannot rest--for Wolsey’s pride, and Wolsey’s deep disgrace-- The pomp, the littleness of man--speak from this ancient place. Here gloriously his summer days he spent in kingly state; Here his last summer sadly pined, bow’d by the stroke of Fate. How mighty was he when he rul’d from Tweed to Humber’s flood! How lowly when he came to die, forsaken by his God! I cannot rest--for holier thoughts the lingering night beguile, Of the glad days when gospel light went forth o’er Britain’s Isle. ’Twas here the Bishop of the North, Paulinus, pitch’d his tent, Here preached the living Word of God, baptizing in the Trent. Hence have the preachers’ feet gone forth thro’ all the country wide; And daughter-churches have sprung up, nursed at their mother’s side. Here have the clerks of Nottingham, and yeomen bold and true, Held yearly feasts at Whitsuntide, and paid their homage due. Here many a mitred head of York, and priests and men of peace, Have lived in penitence and prayer, and welcomed their release. And hence the daily choral song, the gospel’s hopes and fears, Have sounded forth to Christian hearts, beyond a thousand years. ’Tis thus, o’er England’s hill and dale, have passed by Heaven’s decree, A changing light, a chequer’d shade, a mingled company. The good, the bad, have had their day, the Lord hath worked His will; And England keeps her ancient faith, purer and brighter still. Where are they now, the famous men who lived in olden time? They never see the noonday sun, nor hear the midnight chime. They sleep within their narrow cell, waiting the trumpet’s voice; Lord! grant that I may rest in peace, and when I wake--rejoice. _Saracen’s Head, Southwell, 5th March, 1858._ Byron had stayed often at the inn, many years before, and in 1807 wrote an impromptu on the death of a local carrier, John Adams, who travelled to and from the house, and lived drunk and died drunk: John Adams lies here, of the parish of Southwell, A _Carrier_ who _carried_ his can to his mouth well; He _carried_ so much and he _carried_ so fast, He could _carry_ no more--so was _carried_ at last: For the liquor he drank, being too much for one, He could not _carry_ off--so is now _carri_-on.