The Secret Splendour

Frailty

No delicate flower finds its perfume-poise

More chilled than now this timid flame of prayer;

A. rough wind blowing from the world's commotion

Leaves my heart-incense broken on the air!

But, O miraculous Calm, out of my weakness

Build up a sudden towering vehemence:

Make so death-frail the sprout of life's endeavour,

So void of help without Your tranquil beauty

That  I must cling and cling to You for ever—

Ivied with love round Your omnipotence!

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