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“BLESSED DREAMS.”
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 


197

“BLESSED DREAMS.”

The sunset's smile had left the sky,
The moon rose calm and fair,
As low a little maiden knelt
To breathe her nightly prayer;—
And thus her brief petition rose,
In simple words and few:
“Dear Lord, please send us blessed dreams,
And let them all come true!”
O, I have stood in temples grand,
Where in the rainbowed gloom
Rose pompous prayers from priestly lips,
Through clouds of dense perfume
But never one has seemed to me
So guileless, pure, and new,—
“Dear Lord, please send us blessed dreams,
And let them all come true!”
Ah, little maiden, kneeling there,
Beneath the sunset skies,

198

What need have we of other prayer
Than yours, so sweet and wise?
Henceforth I breathe no studied plea,
But bow and pray with you,—
“Dear Lord, please send us blessed dreams,
And let them all come true!”