Alan Sullivan (1868–1947)

GRANT me, dear Lord, the alchemy of toil,

Clean days of labour, dreamless nights of rest,

And that which shall my weariness assoil,

The Sanctuary of one beloved breast;

Laughter of children, hope and thankful tears,

Knowledge to yield, with valour to defend

A faith immutable, and steadfast years

That move unvexed to their mysterious end.