Though I should be maligned by those I trust, let not my spirit be Broken and bowed, but may the throes Of suffering set me free From pettiness and that desire Which goads one to retaliate; With patience I would quench the fire Of vengeance, ere it be too late. And in defeat may I cast out The moods of envy and despair, And from my heart, Lord, I would rout All bitterness. This is my prayer. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DOMESDAY BOOK: GEORGE JOSLIN ON LA MENKEN by EDGAR LEE MASTERS WINTER NIGHT SONG by SARA TEASDALE WASHING-DAY by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD THE CAPTAINS OF THE YEARS by ARTHUR RAYMOND MACDOUGALL JR. WHY PLAGUE ME, LOVES? by ASCLEPIADES OF SAMOS EXOTIC PERFUME by CHARLES BAUDELAIRE |