Thy only blemish—thy mortality!
For 'tis too much disparagement for thee
To be involved in common destiny
And like inglorious men give up thy precious breath.
A fiery chariot should have snatch'd thee hence,
And all the host of heav'n convened to see
100Th' assumption of a godlike Prince)
Into th' ineffable society:
Half-way at least part of th' immaculate train
With palms should have attended thee,