Give me, O life,—I thoughtlessly cried,
When the years were young and the skies were gold,
When the world in my sight was a wonderland wide
And the hours were robins that sang
A rapturous lay,—
Give me radiance, pleasure, and gain—
The laughter of things but never the fang!—
Music and fame and red roses untold
And the brimming flagon of fortune to drain!
This was the prayer I prayed,
Awaiting the day.
Give me, O life,—I wearily asked,
When later the years loomed lurid and long,
When the wonderland-world by shadow was masked—
A songless, desolate close
Where hope lay stark,—
Give me the key to the riddle—the Why
Of the wall at the end, the thorn on the rose!
Is this hollowness all, this riot of wrong,
Or is there a hope and a heaven on high?
This was the prayer I prayed,
Awaiting the dark.
I rejoice, O Life, is now my theme,
And oh, the years are a staff in my hand!
And the lamps in my thought as bravely gleam
As the silver lamps of the night
When the clouds are withdrawn;
I rejoice that faith at the fork of the ways
Beaconed me on to the Love that is light,
And the knowledge that I shall endure and stand,
Unafraid, in my lot at the end of the days:
This is the prayer I pray,
Awaiting the dawn.
