Page:Poems Dorr.djvu/341

Yet, Master, if I may
 Make one pale flower
Bloom brighter, for thy sake,
 Through one short hour;

If I, in harvest-fields
 Where strong ones reap,
May bind one golden sheaf
 For Love to keep;

May speak one quiet word
 When all is still,
Helping some fainting heart
 To bear thy will;

Or sing one high, clear song,
 On which may soar
Some glad soul heavenward,
 I ask no more!