Lordly May commands us now, enthralls
The welkin’s azure scan, purging sense
Of ancient, mirksome sins, in penitence
For all the bloodstained, ghastly scrawls
With which in taint and want we maimed ourselves.
Hold us here, Lord, let us pause a while
In this just brief moment. Is it nature’s smile,
Before we have to sift again the shelves
On which our all too learned books must stay?
For in another glorious space, you speak to me
With scowling grace and righteous ire, beckoning
Love, to extinguish even my mortality,
And make our frailty strength, resign the clay
To all Thy final rod and reckoning.