CLXVIII + 

The Golden Prison + 

Weep not for me, when I am gone, + 

Nor spend thy faithful breath + 

In grieving o’er the spot or hour + 

Of all-enshrouding death; + 

Nor waste in idle praise thy love + 

On deeds of head or hand, + 

Which live within the living Book, + 

Or else are writ in sand; + 

But let it be thy best of prayers, + 

That I may find the grace + 

To reach the holy house of toll, + 

The frontier penance-place⁠— + 

To reach that golden palace bright, + 

Where souls elect abide, + 

Waiting their certain call to Heaven, + 

With Angels at their side; + 

Where hate, nor pride, nor fear torments + 

The transitory guest, + 

But in the willing agony + 

He plunges, and is blest. + 

And as the fainting patriarch gain’d + 

His needful halt mid-way, + 

And then refresh’d pursued his path, + 

Where up the mount it lay, + 

So pray, that, rescued from the storm + 

Of heaven’s eternal ire, + 

I may lie down, then rise again, + 

Safe, and yet saved by fire. + 