Brown shadow else, mid shadows brown.
‘O God,’ he said, ‘it cannot be,
Thy Morning-star, with endless moan,
Should lift his fading orbs to thee,
And thou be happy on thy throne.
It were not kind, nay, Father, nay,
It were not just, O God, I say,
Pray for thy Lost One, Jesus, pray!
‘How can thy kingdom ever come,
While the fair angels howl below?