Classic Poem

I KNEEL before Thee, Lord, oh hear my cry;
From its sore burden set my spirit free,
And give my longing wings to soar toward Thee
Through the pure ether of the upper sky,
And find Thee, find Thee , though Thou art so high!
Give me to eat from that most sacred tree
Whose leaves of healing wave eternally —
Fed full of life by Thee, I shall not die,

Or, dying, die but to be newly born
In that glad day whereof Thou art the light, —
The light whose glories do eclipse the morn,
And blind the sun, and put to death the night —
O Life, O Light, O God, let me be Thine;
Sun of all worlds, upon my darkness shine!