Vigils ONCE I knelt in my shining mail Here by Thine altar all the night. My heart beat proudly, my prayer rose loudly, But I looked to my armor to win the fight. God, my lance was a broken reed, My mace a toy for a child's delight. My helm is battered, my shield is shattered, I am stiff with wounds, and I lost the fight. Low I kneel through the night again, Hear my prayer, if my prayer be right! Take for Thy token my proud heart broken. God, guide my arm! I go back to the fight. |
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