Oh, Dark Companion, Death, whose wide embraces
Overtake remotest change of clime and skies—
Oh, Dark Companion, Death, whose grievous traces
Are scattered shreds of riven enterprise—
Thou, too, in this wise, when, our eyes unsealing,
The clearer day shall change our faith to sight,
Shalt show thyself, in that supreme revealing,
No Dark Companion, but a thing of light:
No ruthless wrecker of harmonious order:
No alien heart of discord and caprice: