I take my leave, with sorrow, of Him I love so well; br I look my last upon His small and radiant prison-cell; br O happy lamp! to serve Him with never ceasing light! br O happy flame! to tremble forever in His sight! br br I leave the holy quiet for the loudly human train, br And my heart that He has breathed upon is filled with lonely pain. br O King, O Friend, O Lover! What sorer grief can be br In all the reddest depths of Hell than banishment from Thee? br br But from my window as I speed across the sleeping land br I see the towns and villages wherein His houses stand. br Above the roofs I see a cross outlined against the night, br And I know that there my Lover dwells in His sacramental might.