I sit within my room and joy to find
That thou who always lov'st art with me here;
That I am never left by thee behind,
But by thyself thou keep'st me ever near.
The fire burns brighter when with thee I look,
And seems a kindlier servant sent to me;
With gladder heart I read thy holy book,
Because thou art the eyes with which I see;
This aged chair, that table, watch, and door
Around in ready service ever wait;
Nor can I ask of thee a menial more
To fill the measure of my large estate;
For thou thyself, with all a Father's care,
Where'er I turn art ever with me there.
--Jones Very.