PRAYERS FOR THE LIVING
BY MARY W. PLUMMER
O SOUL of all souls whitest, what need’st thou
Of solemn masses who with angel choirs
Dost chant enraptured thy most pure desires,
And to the heavenly will, as erst on earth, dost bow?
What can I ask for thee, in halting prayer,
Heavy with grief, that could increase thy bliss?
What in thy perfectness can be amiss
Who grewest to angelhood all unaware?
Rather, pray thou for me. And when ye stand,
Making petition, folding wing on wing,
Drooping your eyes before the glory-light,
Think, if thou may’st, on him who, wandering
Along the lower way, hath lost thy hand,
Yet seeketh for thy footprints day and night!