The Prayer of Miriam Cohen

 From the wheel and the drift of Things
 Deliver us, Good Lord,
 And we will face the wrath of Kings,
 The faggot and the sword!

 Lay not thy Works before our eyes
 Nor vex us with thy Wars,
 Lest we should feel the straining skies
 O'ertrod by trampling stars.


 Hold us secure behind the gates
 Of saving flesh and bone,
 Lest we should dream what Dream awaits
 The Soul escaped alone.


 Thy Path, thy Purposes conceal 
 From our beleaguered realm
 Lest any shattering whisper steal
 Upon us and o'erwhelm.


 A veil 'twixt us and Thee, Good Lord,
 A veil 'twixt us and Thee--
 Lest we should hear too clear, too clear,
 And unto madness see!

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