Yes, noble Arnold, thou didst well to die!
Needed but this, that the dark earth should hide
The seed, to have the harvest far and wide.
Long (with a voice that echoed in the sky)
Didst thou pour forth thy fervent prophecy:
Vain Seer!—for thou amongst us didst abide;—
This world was then thy country;—at our side
Thou spak'st scarce heard. But now thou art on high
Among the Immortal and Invisible Quire,
And straight like thunder (silent till the fire
Which caused it dies), thy soul's majestic voice
Is rolling o'er the wonder-smitten land;
And Truth, that sate in drought, dares to rejoice,
Marking that all admire, some understand.