Though I should be maligned by those I trust, let not my spirit be Broken and bowed, but may the throes Of suffering set me free From pettiness and that desire Which goads one to retaliate; With patience I would quench the fire Of vengeance, ere it be too late. And in defeat may I cast out The moods of envy and despair, And from my heart, Lord, I would rout All bitterness. This is my prayer. |