  Petition Truth, whom I hold divine, Thy wings are strong to bear Thro’ day or desperate night; For, ever those eyes of thine, Fix’d upward full of prayer, Are seeking for the light. Guide me and bear. Descend Into the sulphurous void— Tho’ I so weak, thy wings Stronger than him who, pen’d In hell unmerited, buoy’d Poets past infernal springs. Take me and bear. Descend Into these deeps of death, Wherever the light may lead, Wherever the way may wend; And give to my failing breath, O Spirit, thy words of deed. 1890-3. IN EXILE
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