More late than when my plan for life was changed.
The change seem’d sudden; but, you know, the blow
That swept from me my parents, fortune, all,
Could not but stun me, and I could not think.
No other theme seem’d mine; I could not write.
So came my change—no myth—I felt it all:—
One time, when, lonely, I to Christ had knelt,
I rose to seem not lonely; I was His,
He mine. I vow’d to live then but for Him,
To break away from every cord of Earth,