"Lift up thy light on us and on thine own,
O soul whose spirit on earth was as a rod
To scourge off priests, a sword to pierce their God,
A staff for man's free thought to walk alone,
A lamp to lead him far from shrine and throne
On ways untrodden where his fathers trod
Ere earth's heart withered at a high priest's nod,
And all men's mouths that made not prayer made moan.
From bonds and torments, and the ravening flame,
Surely thy spirit of sense rose up to greet