MY PRAYER.
91
So when you breathe my name in future years
Deal gently with the comrade who is gone,
Remember her as ere who shared your tears
And felt your sorrows even as her own.
O friends! Deny me not the boon I ask,
Is human wrath more dread than that of Heaven?
Is pardoning a fault so great a task
That man should dare refuse what God has given?
Trace all my frailties in Oblivion’s sand,
But grave my virtues deep on memory’s shrine;
When this is done by Heaven’s recording hand
Can human hearts refuse this prayer of mine?
