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XX. MY PRAYER
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53

XX. MY PRAYER

This is my prayer each day: not that the flowers should love me,
Nor further skies of June gleam bountiful above me,
Nor further seas gleam blue,—
Not that the scent of may may fill once more the hedges
And scent of gracious thyme the balmy river-ledges,—
But that once more my eyes may look on you!
This is my prayer each day, each night; that God will let me,
O loved past poet's speech, before you quite forget me,
Just see you,—once draw nigh.
And then when we have met, and once again are parted,
The same cry goes to God from me half broken-hearted,—
“God! let me see her again before I die!”