A Prayer

Teach me, Father, how to go

Softly as the grasses grow;

Hush my soul to meet the shock

Of the wild world as a rock;

But my spirit, propt with power,

Make as simple as a flower.

Let the dry heart fill its cup,

Like a poppy looking up;

Let life lightly wear her crown,

Like a poppy looking down.

Teach me, Father, how to be

Kind and patient as a tree.

Joyfully the crickets croon

Under shady oak at noon;

Beetle, on his mission bent,

Tarries in that cooling tent.

Let me, also, cheer a spot,

Hidden field or garden grot—

Place where passing souls can rest

On the way and be their best.