O THOU, who all my life hast crowned With better things than I could ask, Be it to-day my humble task To own from depths of grief profound, The many sins, which darken through What little good I do. I have been too much used, I own, To tell my needs in fretful words; The clamoring of the silly birds, Impatient till their wings be grown, Have thy forgiveness. O my blessed Lord, The like to me accord. Of grace, as much as will complete Thy will in me, I pray thee for; Even as a rose shut in a drawer That maketh all about it sweet, I would be, rather than the cedar fine: Help me, thou Power divine. With charity fill thou my heart, As summer fills the grass with dews, And as th' year itself renews In th' sun, when winter days depart, Blessed forever, grant thou me To be renewed in thee. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...STUDY FOR A GEOGRAPHICAL TRAIL; 3. WASHINGTON, D.C. by CLARENCE MAJOR WHEN I'M KILLED by ROBERT RANKE GRAVES COMMON DUST by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON A SONNET. ON THE DEATH OF SYLVIA by PHILIP AYRES WORK by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING INDIAN LULLABY by CLAUDE BRYAN |