What sweet of life endureth unmixed with bitter pain? 'Midst earthly change and chances what glory doth remain? All is a feeble shadow, a dream that will not stay; death cometh in a moment, and taketh all away. O Christ, a light transcendent shines in thy countenance, and none can tell the sweetness, the beauty of thy glance. In this may thy poor servant his joy eternal find; thou calledst him, O rest him, thou Lover of mankind!
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