The Evening Prayer

Little girlie, kneeling there, Speaking low your evening prayer, In your cunning little nightie With your pink toes peeping through, With your eyes closed and your hands Tightly clasped, while daddy stands In the doorway, just to hear the 'God bless papa,' lisped by you, You don't know just what I feel, As I watch you nightly kneel By your trundle bed and whisper Soft and low your little prayer! But in all I do or plan, I'm a bigger, better man Every time I hear you asking God to make my journey fair. Little girlie, kneeling there, Lisping low your evening prayer, Asking God above to bless me At the closing of each day, Oft the tears come to my eyes, And I feel a big lump rise In my throat, that I can't swallow, And I sometimes turn away. In the morning, when I wake, And my post of duty take, I go forth with new-born courage To accomplish what is fair; And, throughout the live-long day, I am striving every way To come back to you each evening And be worthy of your prayer.