A great-souled hero, with the starlight shod.
The subject worlds should tremble at his nod
And all the angel host upon him wait
Yet he should leave his pomp and splendid state
And kneel to kiss the ground whereon you trod.
But God, who like a little child is wise,
Made me, a common thing of earthly clay;
Then bade me go and see within your eyes
The flame of love that burns more bright than day,
And as I looked I knew with wild surprise