O HOLIEST Truth! how have I lied to Thee! I vow'd this day Thy festival should be: But I am dim ere night. Surely I made my prayer, and I did deem That I could keep in me Thy morning beam, Immaculate and bright. But my foot slipp'd; and, as I lay, he came, My gloomy foe, and robbed me of heaven's flame. Help Thou my darkness, Lord, till I am light. |