FATHER, how can I thus be bold to pray
That thou shalt grant me that or spare me this?
How should my ignorance not go astray,
How should my foolish lips not speak amiss
And ask for woe when fain they would ask bliss?
How shall I dare to prompt thee, the All-wise,
To show me kindness? Thou art ever kind.
What is my feeble craving in thine eyes
Which view the centuries vast, before, behind,
And sweep unnumbered worlds like viewless wind?
Thy goodness ordereth what thing shall be,
The wisdom knoweth even my inmost want;
Why should I raise a needless prayer to thee,
Or importune Omnipotence to grant
My wishes, dim, short-sighted, ignorant?
And yet I come,—for thou hast bidden and said,
But not to weary thee, or specify
A wish, but rather with this prayer instead:
“O Lord, thou knowest:—give it or deny,
Fill up the cup of joy, or pass me by.”
Just as thou wilt is just what I would will;
Give me but this, the heart to be content,
And if my wish is thwarted to lie still,
Waiting till puzzle and till pain are spent,
And the sweet thing made plain which the Lord meant.