Tophet

Such Tophet was; so looked the grinning fiend
While frighted prelates bowed and called him friend;
I saw them bow, and while they wished him dead
With servile simper nod the mitred head.
Our Mother Church with half-averted sight
Blushed as she blessed her grisly proselyte:
Hosannahs rung through Hell's tremendous borders,
And Satan's self had thoughts of taking orders.
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