A Prayer For My Daughter
ties of sound,
Nor but in merriment begin a chase,
Nor but in merriment a quarrel.
O may she live like some green laurel
Rooted in one dear perpetual place.
My mind, because t I have loved,
t of beauty t I have approved,
Prosper but little, e,
Yet kno to be ce
May well be of all evil chances chief.
If tred in a mind
Assault and battery of the wind
Can never tear t from the leaf.
An intellectual red is t,
So let hink opinions are accursed.
seen t woman born
Out of tys horn,
Because of ed mind
Barter t horn and every good
By quiet natures understood
For an old bellows full of angry wind?
Considering t, all red driven hence,
the soul recovers radical innocence
And learns at last t it is self-delighting,
Self-appeasing, self-affrighting,
And t its o will is heavens will;
Shough every face should scowl
And every er howl
Or every bello, be ill.
And may o a house
omed, ceremonious;
For arrogance and red are the wares
Peddled in thoroughfares.
in custom and in ceremony
Are innocence and beauty born?
Ceremonys a name for the rich horn,
And custom for tree.