If radio's slim fingers can pluck a melody From night—and toss it over a continent or sea; If the petalled white notes of a violin Are blown across the mountains or the city's din; If songs, like crimson roses, are culled from thin blue air— Why should mortals wonder if God hears prayer? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A SPINSTER'S STINT by ALICE CARY KEATS; SONNET by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW TO MISS RIGBY, ON HER ATTENDANCE UPON HER MOTHER AT BUXTON by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD PSALM 64 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE PIONEERS OF DETROIT by LEVI BISHOP |