Lord, for the one who dies alone <br />This night without companion, <br />I cannot rest, I cannot sleep. <br />O shepherd of the piteous sheep <br />Run with Thy crook, and lift in haste <br />The poor head to Thy loving breast. <br /> <br />Oh slake his deadly thirst from streams <br />Of Paradise, and give him dreams <br />Of the mild weather, the green sward. <br />Bind up his bitter wounds, O Lord, <br />And give him comfort. Let him know <br />His Shepherd 'tis that loves him so. <br /> <br />Thou countest Thy flock: not one is lost <br />But Thou goest seeking, for Thou knowest <br />The poor things creep away to die <br />Where none shall find save Thou art nigh. <br />Thou tak'st them to Thy arms, Thy knees, <br />And Thy sick lambs have sweetest ease. <br /> <br />Now I shall close my eyes in sleep, <br />Nor fret since they are Thine to keep, <br />Oh, happy sheep, to have such care, <br />The poorest, Love's own prisoner, <br />Who comforts as his mother might, <br />Rocking him into sleep at night.<br /><br />Katharine Tynan<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/prayer-at-night/
