Therefore through slow time you
give me what is yours, and ceaselessly win your kingdom in me.
Day after day you buy your sunrise from my heart, and you find
your love carven into the image of my life.
LXXVIII
To the birds you gave songs, the birds gave you songs in return.
You gave me only voice, yet asked for more, and I sing.
You made your winds light and they are fleet in their service.
You burdened my hands that I myself may lighten them, and at
last, gain unburdened freedom for your service.
You created your Earth filling its shadows with fragments of
light.
There you paused; you left me empty-handed in the dust to create
your heaven.
To all things else you give; from me you ask.
The harvest of my life ripens in the sun and the shower till I
reap more than you sowed, gladdening your heart, O Master of the
golden granary.
LXXIX
Let me not pray to be sheltered from dangers but to be fearless
in facing them.
Let me not beg for the stilling of my pain but for the heart to
conquer it.
Let me not look for allies in life's battlefield but to my own
strength.
Let me not crave in anxious fear to be saved but hope for the
patience to win my freedom.
Grant me that I may not be a coward, feeling your mercy in my
success alone; but let me find the grasp of your hand in my
failure.
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