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Lines.
The veil between this world and that to come
Grows tremulous and quivers with their breath;
Dimly we hear their voices, see their hands,
Inviting us to the release of death.
O Thou, in whom thy saints above, below,
Are one and undivided, grant us grace
In patience yet to bear our daily cross,—
In patience run our hourly shortening race!
And while on earth we wear the servant's form,
And while life's labors ever toilful be,
Breathe in our souls the joyful confidence
We are already kings and priests with thee.
