Each fair familiar feature of thy face
Shines through the darkness where my soul abides
As on the bridegroom's love-bright eye the bride's,
Or dimly through the pillared outer space,
Forth of the rich remotest holy place,
Between the o'er-arching sculptured temple-sides,
A taper, like a star the cloud half hides,
Lends each pale worshipper a little grace.
Ah cold the frozen marble to my knees,
Cold, cold; but warm the heart that prays. Still show
Thy face forth of the chancel to me here.
Still shine upon me darkling, where I freeze
Here in thine outer courts and pray, one glow
To lend my labouring soul a little cheer.
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