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FIVE PRAYERS
To hear
Amid May twilight, by the murmuring sea,
Some blackbird warbling from a budded tree,
Tender and clear:
To see
Down young rose-petals how the deepening light
Glides gradually, till, somewhere out of sight,
What light must be!—
O Thou, intense
Rapture of Beauty! All-pervading Lord!
Is not this worship? So art Thou ador’d
By every sense!
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