Send Home My Long Strayed

In Heaven It Is Always Autumn.

Twice Or Thrice Had I Loved Thee Before I Knew Thy Face Or Name, So In A Voice, So In A Shapeless Flame, Angels Affect Us Oft, And Worshiped Be.

I Count All That Part Of My Life Lost Which I Spent Not In Communion With God, Or In Doing Good.

As He That Fears God Fears Nothing Else, So He That Sees God Sees Everything Else.

Sleep With Clean Hands, Either Kept Clean All Day By Integrity Or Washed Clean At Night By Repentance.