Prayer For The Morning, Noon or Night

Lord, guard my heart from apathy

Lest heedlessly I dare

To scorn Thy sacred sympathy

That gilds night’s thinning air

Lord, tune the Want that fain doth sprout

To harbored plots within

Where tares of arrogance and doubt

Set snares beneath my skin

Lord, keep me from the cunning path

That seems to fit my plan

And yet the end thereof is death

Veiled in the ways of man

Lord, teach this shell of dust to trust

And let its lone worth be

The love that first You gave to us

Then we return to Thee

© Janet Martin