Yet, were that all, some well might turn away
With custom's passing courtliness, to-day,
And bid a cold farewell
To the great priest, shrewd marshaller of men,
Subtle of verbal fence with tongue or pen,
Ascetic of the cell.
But there was more; and many a hundred hearts,
Who not in cleric conflict played their parts,
Will mourn him well and long,
Friend of the poor, apart from creed or clique,