It may perhaps be well for us to observe the characteristics of Hildebert as we discover them in his hymn. They will be found to be those of an oratorical repetition, and indeed of that “fatal octosyllabic” fluency, demonstrated in later times by Skelton, by Butler, and by Scott. To a certain degree the verse is incapable of anything large or exultant. But it is admirable for the purpose to which he puts it. Indeed, I knew no better way, when Hildebert’s best admirer passed from this to a nobler world, than to express my own sadness in similar Latin; and I venture to close this chapter with the closing lines of that tribute. Mr. E. C. Benedict made it his happiest recreation to turn the strains of these ancient singers into modern verse. And it seemed fitting that he should be commemorated in the very rhythm he loved so well:
“Vir honeste, vir praeclare!
Tibi quidvis possim dare
His versiculis confeci;
Hic, coronam superjeci.
Autem, illic, lux perennis
Proferet floresque pennis
Aves pictis puro die;—
Nihil deest, O tu pie!
Tu qui terra serus abis