In Fame's fall glare, whom one stride more shall set
Upon the Papal seat ! I stand dismayed,
Familiar with thy fearful soul, and yet
Half glad, perceiving modest worth repaid
Even by the Christians! Could thy soul deflect?
No, no, thrice no I Ambition I reject !

Next doubt Could doubt have swayed thee, then I ask.
How enters doubt within the soul of man ?
Is it a door that opens, or a mask
That falls ? and Truth's resplendent face we scan.
Nay, 'tis a creeping, small, blind worm, whose task
Is gnawing at Faith's base ; the whole vast plan
Rots, crumbles, eaten inch by inch within.
And on its ruins falsehood springs and sin.

But thee no doubt confused, no problems vexed.
Thy father's faith for thee proved bright and sweet
Thou f oundst no rite superfluous, no text
Obscure ; the path was straight before thy feet