Poet and preacher, lover of his kind,
True-hearted man of God, whose like again
In this world's journey I may never find.
I know not if the shadow of his soul,
Or the divine effulgence of his heart,
Has through thy veins in mystic silence stole;
But thou to me dost seem of him a part.
His hands have touched thee, and his lips have drawn,
As mine, full many an inspiring cloud
From thy great burning heart, at night and morn;