The Little Book of Modern Verse; a selection from the work of contemporaneous American poets by Unknown
page 100 of 283 (35%)
page 100 of 283 (35%)
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I With cassock black, baret and book, Father Saran goes by; I think he goes to say a prayer For one who has to die. Even so, some day, Father Saran May say a prayer for me; Myself meanwhile, the Sister tells, Should pray unceasingly. They kneel who pray: how may I kneel Who face to ceiling lie, Shut out by all that man has made From God who made the sky? They lift who pray -- the low earth-born -- A humble heart to God: But O, my heart of clay is proud -- True sister to the sod. I look into the face of God, They say bends over me; I search the dark, dark face of God -- O what is it I see? I see -- who lie fast bound, who may |
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