Or Guido, where beneath the crown of thorns
Love haloes the divinest of all eyes,
And struggles with despair with unheard sighs,
Conquers, and in conquering ever mourns
Behold the man! But thou canst never reach,
Even with thy spirit's purest touch,
That sorrow, or enfold in thy frail speech
The earnest sad divinity of such.
Thou seest only as through tears, the dread
Shadow of that agony of pain,
And those grand eyes that ever look above
With that far yearning, till, from overhead,
God stoops and slowly arches in the twain,
The unfading glory of unconquer'd love.