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