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