No mail-clad Serfs, [3] obedient to their Lord, In grim array, the crimson cross [4] demand; Or gay assemble round the festive board, Their chief's retainers, an immortal band. 4. Else might inspiring Fancy's magic eye Retrace their progress, through the lapse of time; Marking each ardent youth, ordain'd to die, A votive pilgrim, in Judea's clime. 5. But not from thee, dark pile! departs the Chief; His feudal realm in other regions lay: In thee the wounded conscience courts relief, Retiring from the garish blaze of day. 6. Yes! in thy gloomy cells and shades profound, The monk abjur'd a world, he ne'er could view; Or blood-stain'd Guilt repenting, solace found, Or Innocence, from stern Oppression, flew. 7. A Monarch bade thee from that wild arise, Where Sherwood's outlaws, once, were wont to prowl; And Superstition's crimes, of various dyes, Sought shelter in the Priest's protecting cowl. 8. Where, now, the grass exhales a murky dew, The humid pall of life-extinguish'd clay, In sainted fame, the sacred Fathers grew, Nor raised their pious voices, but to pray. 9. Where, now, the bats their wavering wings extend, Soon as the gloaming [5] spreads her waning shade;[ii] The choir did, oft, their mingling vespers blend, Or matin orisons to Mary [6] paid. 10. Years roll on years; to ages, ages yield; Abbots to Abbots, in a line, succeed: Religion's charter, their protecting shield, Till royal sacrilege their doom decreed. 11. One holy HENRY rear'd the Gothic walls, And bade the pious inmates rest in peace; Another HENRY [7] the kind gift recalls, And bids devotion's hallow'd echoes cease. 12. Vain is each threat, or supplicating prayer; He drives them exiles from their blest abode, To roam a dreary world, in deep despair-- No friend, no home, no refuge, but their God. [8] 13. Hark! how the hall, resounding to the strain, Shakes with the martial music's novel din! The heralds of a warrior's haughty reign, High crested banners wave thy walls within. 14. Of changing sentinels the distant hum, The mirth of feasts, the clang of burnish'd arms, The braying trumpet, and the hoarser drum, Unite in concert with increas'd alarms. 15. An abbey once, a regal fortress [9] now, Encircled by insulting rebel powers; War's dread machines o'erhang thy threat'ning brow, And dart destruction, in sulphureous showers. 16. Ah! vain defence! the hostile traitor's siege, Though oft repuls'd, by guile o'ercomes the brave; His thronging foes oppress the faithful Liege, Rebellion's reeking standards o'er him wave. 17. Not unaveng'd the raging Baron yields; The blood of traitors smears the purple plain; Unconquer'd still, his falchion there he wields, And days of glory, yet, for him remain. 18.