Thursday, March 12, 2026

A prayer

The players bow; the watchers rise.
The program printed on the page
Has reached its end, and now no eyes
But God's alone are on the stage.
    The curtain falls; they walk away.
    I have not yet begun to play.

Now comes a dark both thick and deep,
And misty paths before me lie.
I pray the Lord my soul to keep,
And let me wake before I die,
    That I, a-fasting through this night,
    May taste again thy golden Light.

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A prayer

The players bow; the watchers rise. The program printed on the page Has reached its end, and now no eyes But God's alone are on the stag...