A Prayer

Spirit and Breath of Life, whate'er Thy name!

   Bear with Thy creature, Man,

That makes his dwelling-place a blot of shame

   Upon the Ordered Plan.

Not Thy hand, O Divine Designer, hurled

   Athwart the starlit skies

One blood-stained, greed-diseased, hate-eaten world,

   To shock celestial eyes.

Not Thy default, O Beautiful, this crust

   Of fratricidal crime,

These maggot-breeds of hunger and of lust

   That Thy fair work begrime.

But ours, who mock Thee from the highest place,

   And in the light of day;

Who claim to lead an upward-struggling race,

   And will not seek the way.

Guards of the human birthright, at Thy call—

   A city sacked and burned;

Guards of the house that is the home of all,

   But whence the weak are spurned.

Brothers, to whom the outcast brothers cry

   As with a voice unknown;

Stewards of Nature's bounty, that deny

   The lawful heirs their own.

Thou that hast made us men, and earth so fair,

   To be so vilely used,

Give space for late repentance and repair

   Of sacred trust abused.

Give time, Eternal, that we stanch these tears,

   Give time to heal this sore,

That our brief speck amid the shining spheres

   Disgrace its birth no more.

But sail ethereal seas, an orb of light,

   To bear Thy purpose on

Until it fades into the cosmic night

   Where the dead worlds have gone.