My Shepherd, lead me to some sheltering bower;
There where thy little flock "lie down at noon";
Though of my dearest earthly joy bereft
Thou art my portion still; thou, thou, my God, art left.
—Charlotte Elliott.
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Says God: "Who comes towards me an inch through doubtings dim,
In blazing light I do approach a yard towards him."
—Oriental, tr. by William Rounseville Alger.
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