The Evening Prayer

Little girlie, kneeling there,

Speaking low your evening prayer,

In your cunning little nightie

With your pink toes peeping through,

With your eyes closed and your hands

Tightly clasped, while daddy stands

In the doorway, just to hear the

“God bless papa,” lisped by you,

You do n't know just what I feel,

As I watch you nightly kneel

By your trundle bed and whisper

Soft and low your little prayer!

But in all I do or plan,

I'm a bigger, better man

Every time I hear you asking

God to make my journey fair.

Little girlie, kneeling there,

Lisping low your evening prayer,

Asking God above to bless me

At the closing of each day,

Oft the tears come to my eyes,

And I feel a big lump rise

In my throat, that I can n't swallow,

And I sometimes turn away.

In the morning, when I wake,

And my post of duty take,

I go forth with new-born courage

To accomplish what is fair;

And, throughout the live-long day,

I am striving every way

To come back to you each evening

And be worthy of your prayer.