And who exalteth, payeth homage meet.
Thy dewy shade, with quiet falling slow,
Divides the fret of never-pausing thought;
From deep of being to the summit brought,
In dream thou guidst me where I hope to go.
Shadow of Death, the safe protecting gate
Barred by the soul against her hunter Grief,
Of human woe the final, only cure;
The fever of the blood dost thou abate,
Dry lingering tears, give weariness relief,