Our greater Moses laid in smouldering dust,
A nation’s heart bowed with him in the dust,
We turn our hope in vain
To seek a chieftain worthy of his trust.
No marvel here!
Two kingliest come not haply born and twinned—
Each age its one great soul, nor matched, nor twinned,
Owning no mortal peer—
So is his glory in our age unkinned.
His mantle fell—