"Desire is prayer"*

Ere dawn her saffron sails unfurled, Or timid night-wraiths fled away, The penitent looked up and cried: My Father, I would learn to pray.

For I have followed winding paths, My feet besmirched with miry clay, Sin-tired and penitent I come— Grant, Lord, that I may learn to pray.

October 8, 1932

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