II.

Lord, thou dost hold my string, else were I driven Down to some gulf where I were tossed no more, No turmoil telling I was not in heaven, No billows raving on a blessed shore.

Thou standest on thy door-sill, calm as day, And all my throbs and pangs are pulls from thee; Hold fast the string, lest I should break away And outer dark and silence swallow me.