Be music, night, 
That her sleep may go 
Where angels have their pale tall choirs 

Be a hand, sea, 
That her dreams may watch 
Thy guidesman touching the green flesh of the world 

Be a voice, sky, 
That her beauties may be counted   
And the stars tilt their quiet faces   
Into the mirror of her loveliness 

Be a road, earth, 
That her walking may take thee 
Where the towns of heaven lift their breathing spires 

O be a world and a throne, God, 
That her living may find its weather 
And the souls of ancient bells in a child's book   
Shall lead her into Thy wondrous house