Classic Poem

1.

Shunn'd by the rich, the vain, the dull,
Truth's all-forgiving son,
The gentlest of the beautiful,
His painful course hath run;
Content to live, to die resign'd,
In meekness proud of wishes kind,
And duties nobly done.

2.

A godlike child hath left the earth;
In heav'n a child is born:
Cold World! thou could'st not know his worth,
And well he earn'd thy scorn;
For he believed that all may be
What martyrs are, in spite of thee,
Nor wear thy crown of thorn.

3.

Smiling, he bound it round his brain,
And dar'd what martyrs dare;
For God, who wastes nor joy nor pain,
Had arm'd his soul to bear;
But vain his hope to find below
That peace which heav'n alone can know;
He died — to seek it there.