A friend was stricken from my life—
I found no word to sob or say;
One shiver marked the severed nerve,
And I walked silent on my way.

But from the bosom of my faith
I missed its soul of loveliness,
And, musing in my steps, I said:
What unblest vacancy is this?

What light hath fall'n from soul and sky
Whose absence should afflict so sore
That I discern no heaven on high,
Within, no living Saviour more?

I dreamed not how my worship hung
On human features, till that day
That showed th' ideal presence gone,
And life's sweet Christ entombed for aye.