And now O God I cannot even cry
Drained even of energy for despair
Or self pity : dwindling emotions wear
Down to the minimal point where I must die
Because it seems I am no longer I :
This thin thread of thought, this shrivelled bare
Nerveless existence clutched by a nightmare,
Without identity and quite sucked dry
Of all sensation but of shrinking pain,
Is like the empty air when the flying swan
With quickening music in its wings is gone
Leaving a space of silence, a sense of strain ;
This sere and withered spirit refresh again,
Mine O thou lord of life send my roots rain.