Poetry Archives

Had I the grace to win the grace
    Of some old man in lore complete,
My face would worship at his face,
    And I sit lowly at his feet.

Had I the grace to win the grace
    Of childhood, loving shy, apart,
The child should find a nearer place,
    And teach me resting on my heart.

Had I the grace to win the grace
    Of maiden living all above,
My soul would trample down the base,
    That she might have a man to love.

A grace I had no grace to win
    Knocks now at my half open door:
Ah, Lord of glory, come thou in!—
    Thy grace divine is all, and more.