Light, more light

The God-enamel'd flower

At early dawn looks up,

And gently would unfold

Its pencil'd cup;

Whilst to the sun it saith --

"Arise and chase the night,

Wipe off this tear of dew --

More light! more light!"

When twilight steals away,

The wood-bird, singing, grieves,

And calls the evening back

To tint the leaves:

It saith -- "Oh, linger yet,

I still, in airy flight,

Would bathe my golden breast --

Stay, stay, O light!"

And thus the soul cries out,

When dawn begins to break,

And in the sky it sees

The first grey streak: --

"Away, away, dark sins,

Ye've held me long in night;

I long to walk in day --

More light! more light!"

Then comes the life's broad noon,

With sun and sultry beam;

And oft the soul doth err

In act and dream:

Sun-spots arise to dim

The perfectness of sight,

Unsatisfied, it cries --

"Temper the light!"

Then evening stealeth on --

The last hours of the strife,

When angels beckon us

To leave this life:

Then as the soul soars up

To heaven's most holy height,

It crieth, plaintively --

"O Lord! more light!"

More light! more light! to see

What mystic path I tread,

What dangers hover o'er

My heart and head!

Oh, stretch thy guiding hand

And lead me through this night;

Then bathe me in a flood

Of perfect light!