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Poem by Henry Vaughan
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Joy of my life while left me here! And still my love! How in thy absence thou dost steer Me from above! A life well led This truth commends, With quick or dead It never ends. Stars are of mighty use; the night Is dark, and long; The road foul; and where one goes right, Six may go wrong. One twinkling ray, Shot o'er some cloud, May clear much away, And guide a crowd. God's saints are shining lights: who stays Here long must pass O'er dark hills, swift streams, and steep ways As smooth as glass; But these all night, Like candles, shed Their beams, and light Us into bed. They are, indeed, our pillar-fires, Seen as we go; They are that city's shining spires We travel to: A swordlike gleam Kept man for sin First out; this beam Will guide them in.
Henry Vaughan's other poems:
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