Be music, night,
      That her sleep may go
      Where angels have their pale tall choirs

















      Be a hand, sea,
      That her dreams may watch
      Thy guidesman touching the green flesh of the world

















      Be a voice, sky,
      That her beauties may be counted
      And the stars will tilt their quiet faces
      Into the mirror of her loveliness

















      Be a road, earth,
      That her walking may take thee
      Where the towns of heaven lift their breathing spires

















      O be a world and a throne, God,
      That her living may find its weather
      And the souls of ancient bells in a child's book
      Shall lead her into Thy wondrous house