Lifted, and by humility enlarged, 50
Became a temple and a place of prayer.
In latter years he walked not singly there;
For one was with him ready at all hours
His griefs, his joys, his inmost thoughts to share,
Who buoyantly his burdens helped to bear, 55
And decked his altars daily with fresh flowers.
But further may we pass not; for the ground
Is holier than the Muse herself may tread;
Nor would I it should echo to a sound