A passing - Fran Reed, 1943-2008

I falter where I firmly trod,

And falling with my weight of cares

Upon the great world's altar-stairs

That slope thro'darkness up to God,

I stretch lame hands of faith, and grope,

And gather dust and chaff, and call

To what I feel is Lord of all,

And faintly trust the larger hope.

In Memoriam, Lord Tennyson, 1849