He said, and wended down the glowing hill. 30 Long watch'd the minstrel with a wistful gaze, Then join'd the musing seer--and both were still, Still 'mid the ruins--girded with the rays: Twin heirs of light and lords of time, grey Truth That ne'er is young--and Song the only youth. At dawn Sir Gawaine through the postern stole, 31 But first he sought one reverend friend--a bishop, By him assoil'd and shrived, he felt his soul Too clean for cooks that fry for fiends to dish up; And then suggested, lighter and elater, To cross the raven with some holy water. Henricus--so the prelate sign'd his name-- 32 Was lord high chancellor in things religious; With him church militant in truth became (_Nam cedant arma togae_) church litigious; He kept his deacons notably in awe By flowers epistolar perfumed with law. No man more stern, more _fortiter in re_, 33 No man more mild, more _suaviter in modo_; When knots grew tough, it was sublime to see Such polish'd shears go clippingly _in nodo_; A hand so supple, pliant, glib, and quick, Ne'er smooth'd a band, nor burn'd a heretic. He seem'd to turn to you his willing cheek, 34 And beg you not to smite too hard the other; He seized his victims with a smile so meek, And wept so fondly o'er his erring brother, No wolf more righteous on a lamb could sup, You vex'd his stream--he grieved--and eat you up. "Son," said Henricus, "what you now propose 35 Is wise and pious--fit for a beginning; But sinful things, I fear me, but disclose, In sin, perverted appetite for sinning; Hopeless to cure--we only can detect it, First cross the bird and then (he groan'd) _dissect it_!" Till now, the raven perch'd on Gawaine's chair 36 Had seem'd indulging in a placid doze, And if he heard, he seem'd no jot to care For threats of sprinkling his demoniac clothes, But when the priest the closing words let drop He hopp'd away as fast as he could hop. Gain'd a safe corner, on a pile of tomes, 37 Tracts against Arius--bulls against Pelagius, The church of Cymri's controverse with Rome's-- Those fierce materials seem'd to be contagious, For there, with open beak and glowering eye, The bird seem'd croaking forth, "Dissect me! try!" This sight, perchance, the prelate's pious plan 38 Relax'd; he gazed, recoil'd, and faltering said, "'Tis clear the monster is the foe of man, His beak how pointed! and his eyes how red! Demons are spirits;--spirits, on reflexion, Are forms phantasmal, that defy dissection."