In memory of Hubert Crackanthorpe
Ours is the darkness, thine the light:
And yet the haunting thought of thee,
O fair and cordial friend! makes bright
The darkness; and we surely see
Thyself, thy very form and face,
Filled with a fresh perfecting grace.
And yet the haunting thought of thee,
O fair and cordial friend! makes bright
The darkness; and we surely see
Thyself, thy very form and face,
Filled with a fresh perfecting grace.
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