Like some young squire who watched his armor bright,
Kneeling upon the chapel floor all night --
Where glimmering candles on the altar glowed,
And moonlight through the Gothic windows flowed --
And prayed, with folded hands, that God would bless
His sword, and keep him pure, and give success --
So, kneeling, Lord, beneath Thine altar light,
The nation asks for help before the fight.
Grant us the prayer of that boy Knight of old --
Faith to be steadfast, courage to be bold.
Such passionate love toward the dear flag we fly
That each who serves it holds its honor high --
Simple, large gifts that soldiers need, O Lord,
Grant the young nation for its unsheathed sword.
And for our captains in the perilous way,
A vision widened to an unknown day.
We keep our vigil; send tomorrow glorious;
Let not God's will go down; bring right victorious.
Kneeling in prayer before Thine altar light,
The nation asks Thy help to fight Thy fight.
R. A. L., ed. A Calendar of War Verse. : , 1918.