Dark night, my staff,

Leaning on its shadowy strength I walk

Toward thee, my God.

Thy crescent my e'er-present friend;

Thy wind, thy voice,

Calls me to go on without end

To thy star that my soul hath seen.

The hour is black, my road unbuilt;

My beggar's song

I cannot sing; yet, thou knowest,

For thy love I long!

I come, O Lord! broken and battered

To thy world where sorrow is not.

[23]

[23]

19

Kiss, my love, kiss

My burning, breaking being;

So when cold death

Will put out the light

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