THE PRAYER

There stood beside the road a shrine, In whose quaint, vaulted shadow smiled With eyes of tenderness divine, The Blessed Virgin and Her Child.

And I, who wandered all alone, Along a rough and weary way, Felt that a great desire had grown Within my heart, to kneel and pray.

But lo! my voice had lost the power To utter words so deep and sweet, And so, I breathed them in a flower, And left it, at the Virgin's feet.