Little girlie, kneeling there, <br />Speaking low your evening prayer, <br />In your cunning little nightie <br />With your pink toes peeping through, <br />With your eyes closed and your hands <br />Tightly clasped, while daddy stands <br />In the doorway, just to hear the <br />'God bless papa,' lisped by you, <br />You don't know just what I feel, <br />As I watch you nightly kneel <br />By your trundle bed and whisper <br />Soft and low your little prayer! <br />But in all I do or plan, <br />I'm a bigger, better man <br />Every time I hear you asking <br />God to make my journey fair. <br /> <br />Little girlie, kneeling there, <br />Lisping low your evening prayer, <br />Asking God above to bless me <br />At the closing of each day, <br />Oft the tears come to my eyes, <br />And I feel a big lump rise <br />In my throat, that I can't swallow, <br />And I sometimes turn away. <br />In the morning, when I wake, <br />And my post of duty take, <br />I go forth with new-born courage <br />To accomplish what is fair; <br />And, throughout the live-long day, <br />I am striving every way <br />To come back to you each evening <br />And be worthy of your prayer.<br /><br />Edgar Albert Guest<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-evening-prayer/
