I prayed, at first, a little Girl,
Because they told me to-
But stopped, when qualified to guess
How prayer would feel-to me-

If I believed God looked around,
Each time my Childish eye
Fixed full, and steady, on his own
In Childish honesty-

And told him what I'd like, today,
And parts of his far plan
That baffled me-
The mingled side
Of his Divinity-

And often since, in Danger,
I count the force 'twould be
To have a God so strong as that
To hold my life for me

Till I could take the Balance
That tips so frequent, now,
It takes me all the while to poise-
And then-it doesn't stay-