I prayed, at first, a little Girl

576 I prayed, at first, a little Girl, Because they told me to— But stopped, when qualified to guess How prayer would feel—to me— If I believed God looked around, Each time my Childish eye Fixed full, and steady, on his own In Childish honesty— And told him what I'd like, today, And parts of his far plan That baffled me— The mingled side Of his Divinity— And often since, in Danger, I count the force 'twould be To have a God so strong as that To hold my life for me Till I could take the Balance That tips so frequent, now, It takes me all the while to poise— And then—it doesn't stay—