The World denies her prophets with rash breath,
Makes rich her slaves, her flatterers adorns;
To wisdom's lips she presses drowsy death,
And on the brow Divine a crown of thorns.
Yet blessèd, though neglected and despised—
Who for the World himself hath sacrificed,
Who hears unmoved her witless mockery,
While to his spirit, slighted and misprized,
Whisper the voices of Eternity!