| Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). Poetry: A Magazine of Verse. 1912–22. | | | | A Prayer | | By Jessie MacDonald |
| | | LOVE us, Lord, but not too much. | |
| Come thou near, yet not too near. | |
| All thy laughing splendor spoils | |
| What we daily see and fear, | |
| What we bear, and do, and touch. | 5 |
| Love us still, but not too much. | |
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| Come thou near, Lord, not too near: | |
| Let us breathe thee through our lips. | |
| Even now I saw thy hue | |
| In the maple’s yellow tips, | 10 |
| When a leaf, so gay, so dear, | |
| Fell—but come thou not more near. | |
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| Let us breathe thee through our lips! | |
| Do thou enter in our eyes! | |
| Touch us that we not forget: | 15 |
| Make us simple still, and wise. | |
| Circling us, thy finger slips— | |
| Let us breathe thee through our lips. | | | | |
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