Let Your Light So Shine

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Let Your Light So Shine

Sometimes, O Lord, thou lightest in my head

A lamp that well might pharos all the lands;

Anon the light will neither rise nor spread:

Shrouded in danger gray the beacon stands!

A pharos? Oh dull brain! poor dying lamp

Under a bushel with an earthy smell!

Mouldering it stands, in rust and eating damp,

While the slow oil keeps oozing from its cell!

For me it were enough to be a flower

Knowing its root in thee, the Living, hid,

Ordained to blossom at the appointed hour,

And wake or sleep as thou, my Nature, bid;

But hear my brethren in their darkling fright!

Hearten my lamp that it may shine abroad

Then will they cry⁠—Lo, there is something bright!

Who kindled it if not the shining God?