PRELUDE

The work for Him I asked and aimed to do,

Ere death should claim my dust, my spirit free,—

That, looking down from where the wise and true

Inherit glory, gracious eyes might see

A spark I kindled beaming endlessly,

And lighting other wanderers to the goal

Where blends the life that is with life to be;—

Now done, or well or ill, the lettered scroll

Of what is writ on heart and mind I here unroll.