In my fragile youth he found me shaking,
like a loveless lily growing wild.
He touched my hollow heart, already breaking,
and nurtured me, his naked, nameless child.
To my eyes he blazed like vision blinding;
beautiful in feature, form and face;
fellowship with him and friendship finding;
I grew up on godliness and grace.
Till those clouds of glory I’d been trailing
died, one day, as Queen Aurora rose.
The youth in me, turned man, whose faith was failing
felt no more, my feelings all had froze.
Then the years flew by and I grew bolder,
damning him a dark, demented dream.
Coward I became, with conscience colder,
I sacrificed him, sold him down the stream.
In my final years, with twilight falling;
I would sell my soul, not count the cost,
to hear the voice of some sweet saviour calling,
like the long-lamented one I lost.