The Way to the Chapter-house: Sacred Retirement V

Into my cold and leaden spirit stream,
Out of thy Star of beauty, that doth burn
Around my Saviour's brow ! O grant one beam,
One faint, dim emanation from thine urn,
Which e'en in me may so responsive turn,
Like magnet to thy pole, that I may rove
No longer. I my daily path would earn,
And gather tow'rd the haven ; I would move
On by thy light till lost in everlasting love.