Too fair to worship, too divine to love.
Henry Hart Milman, Belvidere Apollo.
Ride on, ride on, in majesty!In lowly pomp ride on to die.Henry Hart Milman
Thou our throbbing flesh hast worn;Thou our mortal griefs hast borne;Thou hast shed the human tear;Jesus, Son of Mary, hear!Henry Hart Milman
Death cannot come To him untimely who is fit to die; The less of this cold world, the more of heaven; The briefer life, the earlier immortality.Henry Hart Milman
And the cold marble leapt to life a god.Henry Hart Milman
Too fair to worship, too divine to love.Henry Hart Milman
The trumpet! the trumpet! the dead have all heard: Lo, the depths of the stone-cover'd charnels are stirr'd: From the sea, from the land, from the south and the north, The vast generations of man are come forth.Henry Hart Milman