The Candle Indoors

Some candle clear burns somewhere I come by.I muse at how its being puts blissful backWith yellowy moisture mild night's blear-all black,Or to-fro tender trambeams truckle at the eye.By that window what task what fingers ply,I plod wondering, a-wanting, just for lackOf answer the eagerer a-wanting Jessy or JackThereGod to aggrándise, God to glorify.—

Come you indoors, come home; your fading fireMend first and vital candle in close heart's vault:You there are master, do your own desire;What hinders? Are you beam-blind, yet to a faultIn a neighbour deft-handed? Are you that liarAnd cast by conscience out, spend savour salt?