At Even.
Reading edition
TOO weary to dream, Too languid to pray, Though with dreams and with prayers I would fill the whole day; For I love to dream, And I fain would pray; But I work the whole day, And dream when I may, And scarcely have ever A moment to pray. This toiling, plodding, Prayerless elf; Or, this soulful, mindful, Inner self; Thro’ numberless hours, Or moments few, Which is the false, And which the true? For I love to dream, And I fain would pray; But I work the whole day, And dream when I may, And scarcely have ever A moment to pray.