Personal Desires

For Light and Air and Space I ask
And roads that upward climb;
And heart and hand to do my task,
And Silence half the time.

Space, Light, and Air, and Sun, and Star,
And Moons that reach their prime,
And eyes to see where Angels are
In these low lands of Time.

Light, Space, and Air, and children gay,
Who love To-morrow's face,
And laugh at Sorrow's garments gray,
And tire not in the race.

Space, Light, and Air, and Hope that saves
And webs to music spun,
And crosses set by lonesome graves,
When Earth's sad wars are done.

Light, Air, and Space, and Spices rare,
And dim uncharted Isles
With sounding shells and blossoms fair,
Where harbors stretch for miles.

Peace, Light, and Air, these three, I ask,
And not these transient things,
That vex my soul, and halt my task,
And break my wearied wings.

Light, Space, and Air, and hill and glen,
And end of ooze and grime,
And music making love to men,
And Sagas, old as Time.

Space, Light, and Air, and Solitude,
To sit as still as stone,
And whisper low—My God is good,
Though worlds are overthrown.

Space, Light, and Air, and fearless eyes,
That watch the gathering throng,
While Saints sing loud of Paradise,
And praise Him all day long.

Space, Light, and Air, and story-books,
And legends told in rhyme,
And flocks and herds and running brooks,
And Heaven in God's good time.

Then faltering feet, and long release
From all that tires me so,
And widening skies and psalms of Peace,
As forth from earth I go.

My last Desires—dear home and friends,
And one great love to last,
To be my own, when dreaming ends,
And Earth's strange tale is past.

For Light and Air and Space I ask
And roads that upward climb;
And heart and hand to do my task,
And Silence half the time.

Space, Light, and Air, and Sun, and Star,
And Moons that reach their prime,
And eyes to see where Angels are
In these low lands of Time.

Light, Space, and Air, and children gay,
Who love To-morrow's face,
And laugh at Sorrow's garments gray,
And tire not in the race.

Space, Light, and Air, and Hope that saves
And webs to music spun,
And crosses set by lonesome graves,
When Earth's sad wars are done.

Light, Air, and Space, and Spices rare,
And dim uncharted Isles
With sounding shells and blossoms fair,
Where harbors stretch for miles.

Peace, Light, and Air, these three, I ask,
And not these transient things,
That vex my soul, and halt my task,
And break my wearied wings.

Light, Space, and Air, and hill and glen,
And end of ooze and grime,
And music making love to men,
And Sagas, old as Time.

Space, Light, and Air, and Solitude,
To sit as still as stone,
And whisper low—My God is good,
Though worlds are overthrown.

Space, Light, and Air, and fearless eyes,
That watch the gathering throng,
While Saints sing loud of Paradise,
And praise Him all day long.

Space, Light, and Air, and story-books,
And legends told in rhyme,
And flocks and herds and running brooks,
And Heaven in God's good time.

Then faltering feet, and long release
From all that tires me so,
And widening skies and psalms of Peace,
As forth from earth I go.

My last Desires—dear home and friends,
And one great love to last,
To be my own, when dreaming ends,
And Earth's strange tale is past.
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