Sonnet XX.

_ON THE SEPULCHRE OF CHRIST._
No. 2.
_Quinci impara a stupirti._
Here bend in boundless wonder; bow your head:
Think how God's deathless Mind, that men might be
Robed in celestial immortality
(O Love divine!), in flesh was raimented:
How He was killed and buried; from the dead
How He arose to life with victory,
And reigned in heaven; how all of us shall be
Glorious like Him whose hearts to His are wed:
How they who die for love of reason, give
Hypocrites, tyrants, sophists--all who sell
Their neighbours ill for holiness--to hell:
How the dead saint condemns the bad who live;
How all he does becomes a law for men;
How he at last to judge shall come again!