The Unfinished Prayer

"Now I lay me--say it, darling"
"Lay me," said the tiny lips
Of my daughter, kneeling, bending,
Over her folded fingertips.

"Down to sleep." "To seep, " she murmured.
And the curly blond head bent low.
"I pray the Lord," I gently added-
"You can say it all, I know."

"Pay de Lord" the words came faintly
Fainter still, "my soul to teep."
Then the tired head fairly nodded,
And my child was fast asleep.

But the dewy eyes half opened
When I clasped her to my breast,
and the dear voice gently whispered-
"Mama, God knows all de west."

Oh! the trusting, sweet confiding,
Of the child-heart! Would that I
might trust my Heavenly Father
He who hears my feeblest cry.

Author Unknown to me