O aged Saint! far off I heard
The praises of thy name;—
Thy deed of power, thy prudent word,
Thy zeal’s triumphant flame.
I came and saw; and, having seen,
Weak heart, I drew offence
From thy prompt smile, thy simple mien,
Thy lowly diligence.
The Saint’s is not the Hero’s praise;—
This I have found, and learn
Nor to malign Heaven’s humblest ways,
Nor its least boon to spurn.