A Prayer
O Thou who seekest me
Through the day’s heartless hurry and uproar,
Who followest me to my thought’s farthest shore—
Nay, who art gone before—
Sustain me, O sustain
The heart that seeks for thee.
The world is filled with rendings and with pain,
But thou with peace; with peace though wronged so sore
By our despair, blind wrath, and blind disdain.
And thou hast made it dear
To hope against the wrongs of every hour,
And given to hope the power
And passion to prevail;
The heart, for all its fear,
Putting forth delicate, shy flower on flower
Against the hard world’s hail.
O might my love, that in one heart has found
Such hope to cherish, and such joy to sound,
O might it grow through days that chafe and bound
And our true souls from one another screen,
Till in its clear profound
Part of thy peace were seen.
