[Written for the Sentinel.]

PRAYER

If I in pride and arrogance
Presume to judge God's ways,
And seek to better them perchance,
The while my lips may praise;

Or, if I lift my voice on high
In selfish consciousness,
My own desires to gratify,—
Then do I pray amiss.

But when with good, with Truth and Love,
I seek communion pure,
And dream and falsehood rise above,
To regions which endure;

When I have raised my earnest thought
Above all earthly sense,
And all of my desires have brought
In humble penitence;

When thus I've shut my eyes and ears
Against all things below,
Have quieted my doubts and fears,
And lost all pain and woe;

Then have I come, with head bowed low,
Into God's realm of light,
Out of the darkness, and I know
That I have prayed aright.

We pray amiss, and words are naught;
But when we rightly pray,
Men cannot measure with their thought
The wonders of God's way.

First count the myriad stars on high,
Proud man, before you dare
With all your vaunted tools to try
To map the realm of prayer.

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