Far floatings of a chanted hymn,
Up-borne in gusto from floor to ceiling,
As faintly a procession dim
Out of the darkness seemed to swim.
Onward it wended—nor did falter,
Till from their midmost, one cried—"Who
Bethought him of the quenchéd altar?
Alas! how guide the service through?
Would God might light the lamp anew!"
"Amen!" came through the silence drifting: