Just for a handful of silver he left us,
Just for a riband to stick in his coat—
Found the one gift of which fortune bereft us,
Lost all the others she lets us devote;
They, with the gold to give, doled him out silver,
So much was theirs who so little allow’d:
How all our copper had gone for his service!
Rags—were they purple, his heart had been proud!
We that had loved him so, follow’d him, honour’d him,
Lived in his mild and magnificent eye,