She was too proud to pray; Too proud, And yet— Her life was but a voiceless prayer Living her hopes, unuttered, Rare in the beauty of a Perfect Prayer; ONE knew, and answered,—then I came into her world, Apart, yet in a world of men, Sang of @3Her@1 song, Her kindled faith to share, Read of her heart And saw— The woman there, God:—What a prayer, What a prayer! She was too proud to pray, Too proud, But that was in her yesterday, For now Her inner soul, unfettered, leaps To Him, And rings With music of remembered things Lost in her wayward pride, Voicing in symphony of prayer That which is bare Of pride, And I,—I care, And dare; God:—What a prayer, What a prayer. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: WIDOW MCFARLANE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS LAUGHTER (YOUTH SPEAKS TO HIS OWN OLD AGE) by CONRAD AIKEN THE INCORRIGIBLE DIRIGIBLE by HAYDEN CARRUTH A SUMMER'S GARDEN by ROBERT FROST A DIM DOORWAY by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON |