To Kenelm Henry Digby

How can I thank thee for this gift of thine,
Digby, the dawn and day-star of our age,
Forerunner thou of many a saint and sage
Who since have fought and conquer'd 'neath the Sign?
Thou hast left, as in a sacred shrine--
What shrine more pure than thy unspotted page?--
The priceless relics, as a heritage,
Of loftiest thoughts and lessons most divine.
Poet and teacher of sublimest lore,
Thou scornest not the painter's mimic skill,
And thus hath come, obedient to thy will
The outward form that Calderon's spirit wore.
Ah! happy canvas that two glories fill,
Where Calderon lives 'neath Digby's hand once more.