Cardinal Manning        

Prince, whom the people praised, though not the great

Men, milling with their money-boxes through

The palaces of chance and keeping state

From slums that opened out their hearts to you -

Your glory blazed through London when you died:

In gold and scarlet, you, etherial, lay

Among the ragged ones, who were your pride,

As you were theirs, even more starved than they.

Your portrait shows you robed in God’s own fire

Of love, a skeleton of charity,

Whose eyes, too brilliant for their time, inspire

One most unlike you momentarily

To share the sight you, hungry, could endure:

Christ crucified again in all His poor.