In Mortem. F. D. Maurice

So day by day my life, thus nearer drawn Down the dark avenues unto the dawn, Cries to Thee: O Lord, Lord of life and death, Whom from our gaze the sad night sundereth, Reveal Thyself; be unto us no more A darkly-felt thick darkness by the shore; But like the wind, that wingeth cold and clear Before the dawn by meadow-land and mere, Blow on us; scatter from our sickly brains The feverish fancies that ill conscience feigns; Raise us to stand like men to meet the strife, Fearless and grand, because within thy life Our lives are hidden,--as is his to-day, Thy servant who from sight hath passed away.

April, 1872.