Be music, night,
That her sleep may go Where angels have their pale tall choirs Be a hand, sea,
That her dreams may watch Thy guidesman touching the green flesh of the world Be a voice, sky,
That her beauties may be counted And the stars will tilt their quiet faces Into the mirror of her loveliness Be a road, earth,
That her walking may take thee Where the towns of heaven lift their breathing spires O be a world and a throne,
God,
That her living may find its weather And the souls of ancient bells in a child's book Shall lead her into Thy wondrous house