---

Katharine Tynan - Distraction
Work rating: Low

When swarms of small distractions harry
     Devotion like the gnats that fly
Till prayers are cold and customary,
     Not such as please Thee, Heaven-high.

When I forget for all my striving
     Thy presence holy and august,
Be Thou not angry, but forgiving
     To her Thou madest from the dust.

Say to Thyself: This mortal being,
     So deaf, so blind, so prone to sin,
Has glimpses of Me without seeing
     The places where the nails went in.

Say: Through the crusts of earth, My creature
     Perceives Me, hails Me Lord above;
Rumours of the lost innocence reach her,
     With full assurance of My love.

Say: Of all marvels I have fashioned
     Is none more wonderful and new
As that this thing should go impassioned
     For heights beyond her mortal view.

What though her mind should play and ponder
     On small things meet for such as she!
O love! O loyalty! O wonder!
     That in the darkness gropes for Me.
Source
The script ran 0.001 seconds.