Because my faltering feet may fail to dare The first descendant of the steps of hell, Give me the Word in time that triumphs there, I too must pass into the misty hollow Where all our living laughter stops; and hark The tiny stuffless voices of the dark Have called me, called me till I needs must follow. Give me the Word and I'll attempt it well. Say it's the little winking of an eye Which in that issue is uncurtained quite, A little sleep to help a moment by, Between the thin dawn and the large daylight. Oh tell me more than e'er was hoped of men! Say that's true now, and I'll believe it then. |