The Lantern out of Doors

Sometimes a lantern moves along the night,That interests our eyes. And who goes there?I think; where from and bound, I wonder, where,With, all down darkness wide, his wading light?

Men go by me whom either beauty brightIn mould or mind or what not else makes rare:They rain against our much-thick and marsh airRich beams, till death or distance buys them quite.

Death or distance soon consumes them: windWhat most I may eye after, be in at the endI cannot, and out of sight is out of mind.

Christ minds: Christ's interest, what to avow or amendThere, éyes them, heart wánts, care haúnts, foot fóllows kínd,Their ránsom, théir rescue, ánd first, fást, last friénd.