Published: 17 Apr 2019 › Updated: 17 Apr 2019
A Prayer for My Daughter
Once more the storm is howling, and half hid
Under this cradle-hood and cover lid
My child sleeps on. there is no obstacle
But Gregory's wood and one bare hill
Whereby the haystack-and roof-leveling wind,
Bred on the Atlantic, can be stayed;
And for an hour I have walked and prayed
Because of the great gloom that is in my mind.
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