Excerpt from Twenty Poems
Twenty Poems
Prayer To My Lord
Lord, there are words that were not meant for Thee
In this poor morgue of petty imagery!
Things that sore need yet are not worth Thy righting,
True things writ false, conceived with heart unsighting;
Intent for "this," yet plainly shewing "that,"
Utterly failed of the mark I flung them at.
Not meant nor meet for Thee, Lord! but they shew
(Unguessed of me) the way my heart would go,
Violently vagrant, uncontrolled of Thee.
Oh! if for errant folly pardon may be,
And welcome for the tardy feet's return
O'er ways where ancient sins like scorpions burn;
If there be Wine and Bread - Thou Bread and Wine!
For the perplexed heart, Lord, that seeks Thine;
Take of the heart that loved Thee while it lost,
This that but proves what poor heart needs Thee most.
Oh! since the hand is Thine, the tongue, the head,
And all that daily avoids the imminent dead,
Call the words Thine too; so their only praise
Be that, all-worthless, they yet gained Thy grace.
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