Moving unshepherded with bells that clink
And stir beneath the stars,
And, for the thought’s space wishing he were back,
Pray, to that Sum of Sweetness for his sheep—
“Take them, O Thou that dost supply our lack,
Into Thy hands to keep.”
So you who in His presence move and live
Recall amid your glad celestial cares,
Your chosen office, to your children give
The charity of prayers.