After Prayers Lie Cold

 Arise my body, my small body, we have striven 
Enough, and He is merciful; we are forgiven.
 
Arise small body, puppet-like and pale, and go, 
White as the bed-clothes into bed, and cold as snow, 
Undress with small, cold fingers and put out the light, 
And be alone, hush'd mortal, in the sacred night, 
-A meadow whipt flat with the rain, a cup 
Emptied and clean, a garment washed and folded up, 
Faded in colour, thinned almost to raggedness 
By dirt and by the washing of that dirtiness.
 
Be not too quickly warm again.
 Lie cold; consent 
To weariness' and pardon's watery element.
 
Drink up the bitter water, breathe the chilly death; 
Soon enough comes the riot of our blood and breath.

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