Hymn to Physical Pain

• Dread Mother of Forgetfulness
• Who, when Thy reign begins,
• Wipest away the Soul’s distress,
• And memory of her sins.
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• The trusty Worm that dieth not—
• The steadfast Fire also,
• By Thy contrivance are forgot
• In a completer woe.
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• Thine are the lidless eyes of night
• That stare upon our tears,
• Through certain hours which in our sight
• Exceed a thousand years:
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• Thine is the thickness of the Dark
• That presses in our pain,
• As Thine the Dawn that bids us mark
• Life’s grinning face again.
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• Thine is the weariness outworn
• No promise shall relieve
• That says at eve, ‘Would God ’t were morn!’
• At morn, ‘Would God ’t were eve!’
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• And when Thy tender mercies cease
• And life unvexed is due,
• Instant upon the false release
• The Worm and Fire renew.
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• Wherefore we praise Thee in the deep,
• And on our beds we pray
• For Thy return that Thou may’st keep
• The Pains of Hell at bay!