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Sydney Thompson Dobell (Сидней Томпсон Добелл)

Under Especial Blessing

Lord Christ, Lord Christ, ah for a little space
Turn hence. Some day, when I again am low
In the new dust of whatsoever blow
Time hath in license, from Thy perfect place
Oh let the awful solace of thy face
Sun me, but not now! Lord, Thou seest me! How
Can I, o'erborne by what Thy hands bestow,
Bear what Thine eyes? Now, therefore, of Thy grace
I ask but that if ever, as of yore,
Thou lookest up and sigh'st, my kneeling thought
May kiss Thy skirt, and Thou, who know'st if aught
Touch Thee, mayst know, and through Thee, what no more
Is I, but, ne'ertheless, began in me,
May rise to Him Whom no man hath seen, nor can see.

Sydney Thompson Dobell's other poems:
  1. On Receiving a Book from Dante Rossetti
  2. The Olive
  3. The Army Surgeon
  4. On the Death of Mrs. Browning
  5. To the Authoress of

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