[Written for the Sentinel]

As Through a Glass

O God, I thank Thee for the meadow brownsAnd for the yellow hay,For bird and bee and bluey dragon flyAbout my path to-dayI thank Thee greatly for the hazelnutsThat hang in the high hedge,And for the berry blossoming so rareAlong the water's edge.'Tis Thou, O Love, hast taught these willow treesTo grow exquisitely,'Tis Thou didst paint the wayside elder flowerPaler than ivory.And though my senses see and hear these thingsDarkly 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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