A Prayer May Chance To

Ah! Justice Of Our God! Who Else Could Stow Such Travails New And Pains As Met My Glance!

Will Cannot Be Quenched Against Its Will.

O Power Of Fantasy That Steals Our Minds From Things Outside, To Leave Us Unaware, Although A Thousand Trumpets May Blow Loud--what Stirs You If The Senses Show You Nothing? Light Stirs You, Formed In Heaven, By Itself, Or By His Will Who Sends It Down To Us.

Three Things Remain With Us From Paradise: Stars, Flowers And Children.

Here Let Dead Poetry Rise Once More To Life.