Maurice Thompson

A Morning Prayer

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O breeze!
Thou dewy, cool, sweet current of delight,
Appease
This longing for the ripe fruit of the right;
Winnow my soul
And flood my heart's cold caves with charity,
And roll
This burden of the love of sin from me!


O sky!
Pour thy vast cup of purity on me,
That I
May sound the flawless note of liberty,
As I stand
Waiting to see the flower of sunrise blow,
Waiting to feel the fresher currents flow
Into this morning land.


O sea!
Thou weltering giant, lend thy stormy voice
To me,
That I this day may make the earth rejoice
With a sky-filling, world-o'erwhelming song,
The tempest song of Freedom blowing down the walls of Wrong!


Lord God!
Thou master of the winds, the skies, the seas,
Who trod
The valley of man's lowest miseries,
Lend me thy love, that I may love all men,
That I may show all men the way of love,
From palace high to deepest prison-den;
That I may prove
How Brotherhood is Freedom's other name,
How Freedom's other name is but the Word,
And that Word is the Lord
Come down again.
Amen.

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Maurice Thompson