Prayer

IF I should pray, my prayer would be For gratitude unlimited: For gratitude so vast and deep, That it would move my soul to weep Great tears, and all the words I said To be as organ notes sublime, Full-throated flowing words of rhyme, Whose like no mortal eye hath read.

Then would I kneel before the God Whose matchless genius made the earth; The Poet-God, who sows the hours With all the scented hosts of flowers, Who gives the little winds their birth, Who doth unloose the sea-song’s might To shake the very stars at night, And fling the foam-flakes high in mirth.

Whose mind is fragrant as a grove Of cedar trees in summer rain, Whose thoughts dead poets gathered up, And poured within the brimming cup They offered to the world in vain. Whose whisper masters caught, and wrote Into their music note by note, Immortal, haunting, strain on strain.

Whose image is revealed to all Great lovers in the loved one’s face, Whose passion mystical and deep Kindles the holy fires that sleep Within the heart’s most secret place. Whose breath is incense on the shrine Of earthly love, burning divine And changeless, through all time and space!