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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=416648" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Ike Walton's Prayer</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I crave, dear Lord, <br>No boundless hoard <br>Of gold and gear, <br>Nor jewels fine, <br>Nor lands, nor kine, <br>Nor treasure-heaps of anything.- <br>Let but a little hut be mine <br>Where at the hearthstore I may hear <br>The cricket sing, <br>And have the shine <br>Of one glad woman's eyes to make, <br>For my poor sake, <br>Our simple home a place divine;- <br>Just the wee cot-the cricket's chirr- <br>Love, and the smiling face of her. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I pray not for <br>Great riches, nor <br>For vast estates, and castle-halls,- <br>Give me to hear the bare footfalls <br>Of children o’er <br>An oaken floor, <br>New-risen with sunshine, or bespread <br>With but the tiny coverlet <br>And pillow for the baby’s head; <br>And pray Thou, may <br>The door stand open and the day <br>Send ever in a gentle breeze, <br>With fragrance from the locust-trees, <br>And drowsy moan of doves, and blur <br>Of robin-chirps, and drove of bees, <br>With afterhushes of the stir <br>Of intermingling sounds, and then <br>The good-wife and the smile of her <br>Filling the silences again- <br>The cricket’s call, <br>And the wee cot, <br>Dear Lord of all, <br>Deny me not! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I pray not that <br>Men tremble at <br>My power of place <br>And lordly sway, - <br>I only pray for simple grace <br>To look my neighbor in the face <br>Full honestly from day to day- <br>Yield me this horny palm to hold, <br>And I’ll not pray <br>For gold;- <br>The tanned face, garlanded with mirth, <br>It hath the kingliest smile on earth- <br>The swart brow, diamonded with sweat, <br>Hath never need of coronet. <br>And so I reach, <br>Dear Lord, to Thee, <br>And do beseech <br>Thou givest me <br>The wee cot, and the cricket’s chirr, <br>Love, and the glad sweet face of her.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=James+Whitcomb+Riley">James Whitcomb Riley</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=416648" data-title="Ike Walton's Prayer de James Whitcomb Riley" data-description="I crave, dear Lord, 
No boundless hoard 
Of gold and gear, 
Nor jewels fine, 
Nor lands, nor kine, 
Nor treasure-heaps of anything.- 
Let but a little hut be mine 
Where at the hearthstore I may hear 
The cricket sing, 
And have the shine 
Of one ..."></div>
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