IN days supreme, of fond delight, When happy thoughts within us dwell, Like vestals robed in stainless white,— Who time their footsteps by the swell Of sweet-voiced bells upon the air— Then have we least the need for prayer. In days obscured by veiling folds Of grief, or clouded o'er with dread, While dumb suspense relentless holds Its sword above the shrinking head,— Then, even in the soul's despair, Is not the deepest need of prayer. Since to the dark Gethsemane The pitying angels, soon or late, @3Must@1 come with tenderest ministry, And each blithe day is but the gate To some rich temple, rising fair, Which builds to heaven a golden stair— God keep us through the common days, The level stretches, white with dust, When thought is tired, and hands upraise Their burdens feebly, since they must. In days of slowly fretting care, Then most we need the strength of prayer. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO THE MEMORY OF THE BRAVE AMERICANS UNDER GENERAL GREENE by PHILIP FRENEAU THE GOLD-SEEKERS by HAMLIN GARLAND TO MR. MONTGOMERY; OCCASIONED BY ... ATTACK ON HIS POEMS by LUCY AIKEN A SEA-SIDE WALK by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING THE SUPREME GIFT by DAISY DEAN BUTLER |