[Written for the Sentinel]

As Through a Glass

O God, I thank Thee for the meadow browns
And for the yellow hay,
For bird and bee and bluey dragon fly
About my path to-day
I thank Thee greatly for the hazelnuts
That hang in the high hedge,
And for the berry blossoming so rare
Along the water's edge.
'Tis Thou, O Love, hast taught these willow trees
To grow exquisitely,
'Tis Thou didst paint the wayside elder flower
Paler than ivory.
And though my senses see and hear these things
Darkly as through a glass,
Some day I'll wake to know them as they are—
The birds, the trees, the grass.

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