Classic Poem

“No way but this.” There where the pleasant shade
Dropped from the ledges of the Alban hill
Creeps to the vast Campagna and is still,
The mightier shadow reached him! Prayer was made:
But he to God his tribute just has paid,
And earned his rest. The deep recalled the rill;
A long life's labour with a perfect will
He on the altar of the Church had laid.
Child of the old English learning sage and pure,
Authentic, manly, grave, without pretence,
From this poor stage of changeful time and sense
Released, sleep well, of thy reward secure:
Beside the apostles threshold thou dost lie,
Waiting, well pleased, thy great eternity.