Poems (Browning)/The Evening Prayer
The Evening Prayer
O childhood days! a flower that blows
Untrammeled as some pure wild rose;
At night, grown weary of our play,
For frolic sped the livelong day,
With eager lips we hastened sleep,
And bade the Shepherd watch to keep;
And from the cot within our bower,
We watched each little twinkling star.
And still I hear your gentle prayer,
And see those forms that once stood there,
Hear childish voices blending in
With reverent chime, the low "Amen".
Untrammeled as some pure wild rose;
At night, grown weary of our play,
For frolic sped the livelong day,
With eager lips we hastened sleep,
And bade the Shepherd watch to keep;
And from the cot within our bower,
We watched each little twinkling star.
And still I hear your gentle prayer,
And see those forms that once stood there,
Hear childish voices blending in
With reverent chime, the low "Amen".