XXIII
Prayer
Let me not know how sins and sorrows glide
Along the sober city of our rage,
Or why the sons of men are heavy-eyed.
Let me not know, except from printed page,
The pain of bitter Love, of baffled Pride,
Or Sickness shadowing with a long presage.
Let me not know, since happy some have died
Quickly in youth or quietly in age
How faint, how loud, the bravest hearts have cried.
47
