Prayer

A poem by Ralph Waldo Emerson

When success exalts thy lot,
God for thy virtue lays a plot:
And all thy life is for thy own,
Then for mankind's instruction shown;
And though thy knees were never bent,
To Heaven thy hourly prayers are sent,
And whether formed for good or ill,
Are registered and answered still.

Reader Comments

Tell us what you think of 'Prayer' by Ralph Waldo Emerson

comments powered by Disqus

Home | Search | About this website | Contact | Privacy Policy