Ii

Yet one more step--no flight The weary soul can bear-- Into a whiter light, Into a hush more rare.

Take me, I am all Thine, Thine now, not seeking Thee,-- Hid in the secret shrine, Lost in the shoreless sea.

Grant to the prostrate soul Prostration new and sweet, Make weak the weak, control Thy creature at Thy feet.

Passive I lie: shine down, Pierce through the will with straight Swift beams, one after one, Divide, disintegrate,

Free me from self,--resume My place, and be Thou there; Yet also keep me. Come Thou Saviour and Thou Slayer!