Sonnet
To Lord Denman.
Retiring from the Chief Justiceship of England.
There is a solemn rapture in the Hail1
With which a nation blesses thy repose,2
Which proves thy image deathless—that the close3
Of man’s extremest age whose boyhood glows4
While pondering o’er thy lineaments, shall fail5
To delegate to cold historic tale6
What Denman was ; for dignity which flows7
Not in the moulds of compliment extern,8
But from the noble spirit’s purest urn9
Springs vital ; justice kept from rigour’s flaw10
By beautiful regards ; and thoughts that burn11
With generous ire, no form but thine shall draw12
Within the soul, when distant times would learn13
The bodied majesty of England’s Law.14