As still sea-deeps, unvexed of any tide.
Nay, I have learned to cherish rightly, too,
All light and life that minister to you.
I hold most dear
Whatever least thing brings you smallest cheer;
And, day by day, my ceaseless prayer is this,
That from the changeful, many-colored grace
Of time and place,
Your grief may come to weave a chrysalis
Round its dead hopes, till waking, by and by,