In the deep wilderness unseen she pray’d,
The daughter of Jerusalem; alone
With all the still, small whispers of the night,
And with the searching glances of the stars,
And with her God, alone: she lifted up
Her sweet, sad voice, and, trembling o’er her head,
The dark leaves thrill’d with prayer—the tearful prayer
Of woman’s quenchless, yet repentant love.
Father of Spirits, hear!
Look on the inmost heart to thee reveal’d,