Be
near me when the sensuous frame
Is rack’d with pangs that conquer trust;
And Time, a maniac scattering dust,
And
Life, a Fury slinging flame.
Be
near me when my faith is dry,
And men the flies of latter spring,
That lay their eggs, and sting and sing
And
weave their petty cells and die.
Be
near me when I fade away,
To point the term of human strife,
And on the low dark verge of life
The
twilight of eternal day.