There, from that lowly cell as rose to light
The canonized remains of one whose mind
Hath been a worship to the eye of ages,
They were not seen thus coldly—time gave back
Its venerable honours registered
Deep in the heart of living Italy—
A crown of many-tinted sanctities.
Thy beauty, goodness, and pure innocence,
Thy faculty of vision, gift divine,
Rushed round thee as a glory—thou wert seen