THE UNFINISHED PRAYER.
Reading edition
"Now I lay me"—say it, darling; "Lay me," lisped the tiny lips Of my daughter, kneeling, bending, O'er her folded finger-tips. "Down to sleep"—"to sleep," she murmured, And the curly head dropped low; "I pray the Lord," I gently added, "You can say it all, I know." "Pray the Lord"—the words came faintly. Fainter still, "my soul to keep;" Then the tired head fairly nodded, And the child was fast asleep. But the dewy eyes half-opened When I clasped her to my breast; And the dear voice softly whispered, "Mamma, God knows all the rest."