Joy of my life while left me here! and still my Love! steer me from above. A life well led this truth commends, with quick or dead it never ends. Stars are of mighty use; the night is dark and long; The road foul; and where one goes right, six may go wrong. Ah and guide a crowd. God's saints are shining lights: who stays here long must pass o'er dark hills swift streams, and steep ways as smooth as glass; but these all night, like candles shed their beams, and light us into bed. They are indeed our pillar fires, seen as we go; they are that City's shining spires we travel to; a swordlike gleam kept man for sin first out; this beam will guide him in.