A Prayer in Pain

A Prayer in Pain.
147.8

Lord I beseech thee, not so sharp again:
I cannot suffer so and be thy child;
I am some brute thing, tortured, trapped and wild.
Fighting the hands that would relive Its pain.

I have known sorrow, Lord, and bless- ed thy name,
Standing upright, although I could not see
Because of tears-but still my soul was free
No crowd then, I merited no blame.

But now, dear Lord my weak flesh shames me so,
I pray thee, ere from torture I grow dumb.
Let thy bright angel with the sharp sword come.
To slay me and Pain’s demons at one blow.

This I ask In his name who once did shrink
From that too bitter cup they made him drink.
-Emily Sargent Lewis in Lippen- cott’s.