“That the Saint whose form we stand beside
Has for ages slept with the dead?”
“He liveth, he liveth,” she said again,
“For the span of his life tenfold extends
Beyond the wonted years of men.
He sits by the graves of well-loved friends
That died ere thy grandsire’s grandsire’s birth;
The oak is decayed with old age on earth,
Whose acorn-seed had been planted by him;
And his parents remember the day of dread