Shaping to truth the froward will
Along thy narrow way.
Deny me wealth; far, far remove
The lure of power or name;
Hope thrives in straits, in weakness love, 35
And faith in this world’s shame.
John Henry Newman.
CCCIII
THE GRAVE.
I stood within the grave’s o’ershadowing vault;
Gloomy and damp it stretched its vast domain;