Be every mourner's sleep tonight / Like infant's slumbers, pure and light.

New every morning is the love / Our wakening and uprising prove.

We need not bid, for cloistered cell, / Our neighbour and our work farewell. / Nor strive to wind ourselves too high / For sinful man beneath the sky.

Abide with me from morn to eve, / For without Thee I cannot live: / Abide with me when night is nigh. / For without Thee I dare not die.

Peace is the first thing the angels sang.

As fire kindled by fire, so is the poet's mind kindled by contact with a brother poet.