O Lord that seest,
from yon starry height, centred in one the future and the past, fashioned in
thine own image, see how fast the world obscures in me what once was bright.
Eternal sun, the warmth which thou hast given to cheer life’s flowery April
fast decays. Yet, in the hoary winter of my days for every green shall be my
trust in heaven. Celestial king, O let thy presence pass before my spirit, and
an image fair shall meet that look of mercy from on high, as the reflected
image in a glass doth meet the look of him who seeks it there, and owes its
being to the gazer’s eye. (H. W. Longfellow)