To summits nobler than the proudest that he won!
O, had he felt that that which then did bind
His beating temples with its iron band,
Might once, indeed, of that Immortal Mind,
That gladdened Earth, have pierced the symbol hand;
Had vision wafted him to those dim years,
When Christ was bowing to the Agony,
And pouring upon Man his farewell tears,
Ere His triumphal parting for the sky—
What then had been the story of thine eye,