The Prayer of Miram Cohen
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From the wheel and the drift of Things
Deliver us, Good Lord,
And we will face the wrath of Kings
The faggot and the sword!
Lay not Thy Works before our eyes
Nor vex us with Thy Wars
Lest we should feel the straining skies
Oโertrod by trampling stars.
Hold us secure behind the gates
Of saving flesh and bone,
Lest we should dream what Dream awaits
The soul escaped alone.
Thy Path, Thy Purposes conceal
From our beleaguered realm,
Lest any shattering whisper steal
Upon us and oโerwhelm.
A veil โtwixt us and Thee, Good Lord,
A veil โtwixt us and Thee,
Lest we should hear too clear, too clear,
And unto madness see!