Lord of Love, Thy servant thus doth pray:
Abide Thou where my Lady deigns to stay,
Yet send Thy peace to lead me on my way;
Because the memories of the things that were--
That little blessed while with Thee and her--
Make me a heavy-hearted traveller.
And so, when some plain irks, or some steep hill,
I--knowing that Thy will was once our will--
Shall be most sure Thou livest with her still,
And only waitest--Thou and she alone--
Until I know again as I have known
The glory that abideth near our throne.