Prayer by Luis Untermeyer
God, though this life is but a wraith,     Although we know not what we use, Although we grope with little faith,     Give me the heart to fight — and lose.
Ever insurgent let me be, Â Â Â Â Make me more daring than devout; From sleek contentment keep me free, Â Â Â Â And fill me with a buoyant doubt.
Open my eyes to visions girt     With beauty, and with wonder lit — But always let me see the dirt,     And all that spawn and die in it.
Open my ears to music; let     Me thrill with Spring’s first flutes and drums — But never let me dare forget     The bitter ballads of the slums.
From compromise and things half done, Â Â Â Â Keep me with stern and stubborn pride; And when at last the fight is won, Â Â Â Â God, keep me still unsatisfied.
