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“Twelve legions girded with angelic sword Were at his beck, the scorned and buffeted: He healed another's scratch; his own side bled, Side, feet, and hands, with cruel piercings gored. Oh wonderful the wonders left undone! And scarce less wonderful than those he wrought; Oh self-restraint, passing human thought, To have all power, and be as having none; Oh self-denying love, which felt alone For needs of others, never for its own.” — Richard Chenevix Trench
Twelve legions girded with angelic sword
Were at his beck, the scorned and buffeted:
He healed another's scratch; his own side bled,
Side, feet, and hands, with cruel piercings gored.
Oh wonderful the wonders left undone!
And scarce less wonderful than those he wrought;
Oh self-restraint, passing human thought,
To have all power, and be as having none;
Oh self-denying love, which felt alone
For needs of others, never for its own.