[from Collected Works, T.E.Brown]

THE PRAYERS

I WAS in Heaven one day when all the prayers
Came in, and angels bore them up the stairs
Unto a place where he
Who was ordained such ministry
Should sort them so that in that palace bright
The presence-chamber might he duly dight;
For they were like to flowers of various bloom;
And a divinest fragrance filled the room.

Then did I see how the great sorter chose
One flower that seemed to me a hedgeling rose,
And from the tangled press
Of that irregular loveliness
Set it apart—and" This," I heard him say,
" Is for the Master " : so upon his way
He would have passed ; then I to him
" Whence is this rose ? O thou of cherubim
The chiefest ? "— " Know’st thou not ? " he said and smiled,
" This is the first prayer of a little child."