Poems (Browning)/The Evening Prayer
The Evening Prayer
O childhood days! a flower that blows Untrammeled as some pure wild rose;At night, grown weary of our play, For frolic sped the livelong day,With eager lips we hastened sleep, And bade the Shepherd watch to keep;And from the cot within our bower, We watched each little twinkling star.And still I hear your gentle prayer, And see those forms that once stood there,Hear childish voices blending in With reverent chime, the low "Amen".