Lines

Sometimes, from the far-away,

Wing a little thought to me;

In the night or in the day,

It will give a rest to me.

I have praise of many here,

And the world gives me renown;

Let it go — give me one tear,

‘ Twill be a jewel in my crown.

What care I for earthly fame?

How I shrink from all its glare!

I would rather that my name

Would be shrined in some one's prayer.

Many hearts are all too much,

Or too little in their praise;

I would rather feel the touch

Of one prayer that thrills all days.