My Father,
Here for a moment in your light I stand,
And feel upon my lifted face
Your touch, your touch, as of a father's hand.
Shine down upon me. See,
It is so little and so brief a thing
That drinks your light, remembering
The dark that was, the dark that is to be —
So soon to be again.
O let your glance fall tenderly and mild!
Have pity now, and when
The night has taken me, have pity then,
Father, on me, your child.