Start not! upon the minster wall
⁠Sunshine is shed in holy calm,
And lonely though my footsteps fall,
⁠The saints shall shelter thee from harm.

Shrink not if it be summer noon,
⁠This shadow should night's welcome be;
These stairs are steep, but landed soon
⁠We'll rest us long and quietly.

What though our path be o'er the dead,
⁠They slumber soundly in the tomb;
And why should mortals fear to tread
⁠The pathway to their future home?