I CRAVE, dear Lord, No boundless hoard Of gold and gear, Nor jewels fine, Nor lands, nor kine, Nor treasure-heaps of anything. -- Let but a little hut be mine Where at the hearthstone I may hear The cricket sing, And have the shine Of one glad woman's eyes to make, For my poor sake, Our simple home a place divine: -- Just the wee cot -- the cricket's chirr -- Love, and the smiling face of her. I pray not for Great riches, nor For vest estates and castle-halls: -- Give me to hear the bare footfalls Of children o'er An oaken floor New-rinsed with sunshine, or bespread With but the tiny coverlet And pillow for the baby's head; And, pray Thou, may The door stand open and the day Send ever in a gentle breeze, With fragrance from the locust-trees, And drowsy moan of doves, and blur Of robin-chirps, and drone of bees, With after-hushes of the stir Of intermingling sounds, and then The goodwife and the smile of her Filling the silences again -- The cricket's call And the wee cot, Dear Lord of all, Deny me not! I pray not that Men tremble at My power of place And lordly sway, -- I only pray for simple grace To look my neighbor in the face Full honestly from day to day -- Yield me his horny palm to hold, And I'll not pray For gold: -- The tanned face, garlanded with mirth, It hath the kingliest smile on earth; The swart brow, diamonded with sweat, Hath never need of coronet. And so I reach, Dear Lord, to Thee, And do beseech Thou givest me The wee cot, and the cricket's chirr, Love, and the glad sweet face of her. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...RESOLUTION OF A POETICAL QUESTION CONCERNING FOUR RURAL SISTERS: 2 by CHARLES COTTON NIGHTFALL IN DORDRECHT by EUGENE FIELD THE PRAYER OF AGASSIZ by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER TO A YOUNG MAN ON THE PLATFORM OF A SUBWAY EXPRESS by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS WITHER AWAY by THOMAS HAYNES BAYLY |