William Stanley Braithwaite, ed. (1878–1962). Anthology of Magazine Verse for 1920.

Confessional

I DO not kneel at night, to say a prayer;

I think of spiders and I do not dare!

My knees are thin, and easily they could

Gather a splinter, roughened from the wood.

I’m cold, and bed is warm; I’m better there,

Than in the outer darkness of a prayer!

But when the morning wakes up, pink and cool,

And sunrise makes our peach-blooms glory-full;

And God comes smiling down the garden-walk,

I run and slip my hand in His, and talk!

I tell Him that I am a naughty lamb;

He laughs and says He made me as I am!

Contemporary Verse