"The light that is felt"
di John Greenleaf Whittier (1807-1892)

A tender child of summers three,
at night, while seeking her little bed,
Paused on the dark stair timidly,
Oh, mother take my hand, said she,
And then the dark will be light...
We older children grope our way
from dark behind to dark before;
And only when our hands we lay
in Thine, O God! the night is day,
and there is darkness never more.