Shall I remember when the hour nears And death is but a half-step away, A sun in which our darkness disappears, Her smile, the promise of a golden day.
Or shall I feel Her touch, Her blessing hand So gentle on my bowed unworthy head, Her grace to guide but rarely to command, That made the spirit wake from body's bed
Aroused from dream-like sleep in heaven's fields To seek the one divine in all on earth, The path of light abjuring dark's ordeals, Recall the reason for this sacred birth.
In the rapture of Her moments we shall meet God within who comes on soundless feet.
Poems Undated (1727)
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