A PRAYER

One cricket left, of summer's choir.

One glow-worm, flashing life's last fire.

One frog with leathern croak

Beneath the oak,—

And the pool stands leaden

Where November twilights deaden

Day's unspent desire.

One star in heaven — East or West.

One wind — a gypsy seeking rest.

One prayer within my heart —

For all who part

Upon Death's dark portal,

With no hope of an immortal

Morrow for life's quest.