Before my light goes out for ever if God should
give me a choice of graces,
I would not reck of length of days, nor crave
for things to be;
But cry: “One day of the great lost days, one face
of all the faces,
Grant me to see and touch once more and
nothing more to see.

“For, Lord, I was free of all Thy flowers, but I
chose the world's sad roses,
And that is why my feet are torn and mine eyes
are blind with sweat,
But at Thy terrible judgment-seat, when this my
tired life closes,
I am ready to reap whereof I sowed, and pay my
righteous debt.

“But once before the sand is run and the silver
thread is broken,
Give me a grace and cast aside the veil of
dolorous years,
Grant me one hour of all mine hours, and let me
see for a token
Her pure and pitiful eyes shine out, and bathe
her feet with tears.”

Her pitiful hands should calm, and her hair stream
down and blind me,
Out of the sight of night, and out of the reach of
fear,
And her eyes should be my light whilst the sun
went out behind me,
And the viols in her voice be the last sound in
mine ear.

Before the ruining waters fall and my life be carried
under,
And Thine anger cleave me through as a child
cuts down a flower,
I will praise Thee, Lord, in Hell, while my limbs
are racked asunder,
For the last sad sight of her face and the little
grace of an hour.