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