Prayer

I do not undertake to say

That literal answers come from Heaven,

But I know this - that when I pray,

A comfort, a support is given

That helps me rise o'er earthly things

As larks soar up on airy wings.

I do not stop to reason out

The why and how. I do not care,

Since I know this, that when I doubt,

Life seems a blackness of despair,

The world a tomb; and when I trust,

Sweet blossoms spring up in the dust.

Prayer has a sweet refining grace,

It educates the soul and heart.

It lends a luster to the face,

And by its elevating art

It gives the mind an inner-sight

That brings it near the Infinite.

From our gross selves it helps us rise

To something which we yet may be.

And so I ask not to be wise,

If thus my faith is lost to me.

Faith that with angels' voice and touch,

Says "Pray, for prayer availeth much."

~ Ella Wheeler Wilcox