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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