 | Poems |  |
I.
I come to Thee not asking aught; I crave
No gift of Thine, no grace;
Yet where the suppliants enter let me have
Within Thy courts a place.
No gift of Thine, no grace;
Yet where the suppliants enter let me have
Within Thy courts a place.
My hands, my heart contain no offering;
Thy name I would not bless
With lips untouched by altar-fire; I bring
Only my weariness.
Thy name I would not bless
With lips untouched by altar-fire; I bring
Only my weariness.
These are the children, frequent in Thy home;
Grant, Lord, to each his share;
Then turn, and merely gaze on me, who come
To lay my spirit bare.
Grant, Lord, to each his share;
Then turn, and merely gaze on me, who come
To lay my spirit bare.
| Poems | |