| Nicholson & Lee, eds. The Oxford Book of English Mystical Verse. 1917. |
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| 223. E Tenebris |
| By Oscar Wilde (1856–1900) |
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| COME down, O Christ, and help me! reach thy hand, | |
| For I am drowning in a stormier sea | |
| Than Simon on thy lake of Galilee: | |
| The wine of life is spilt upon the sand, | |
| My heart is as some famine-murdered land | 5 |
| Whence all good things have perished utterly, | |
| And well I know my soul in Hell must lie | |
| If I this night before God’s throne should stand. | |
| ‘He sleeps perchance, or rideth to the chase, | |
| Like Baal, when his prophets howled that name | 10 |
| From morn to noon on Carmel’s smitten height.’ | |
| Nay, peace, I shall behold, before the night, | |
| The feet of brass, the robe more white than flame, | |
| The wounded hands, the weary human face. | |
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