I found this poem in my aunt's little box of special things. It appears to be a prayer written to be given to my mother, N.J.D., when she was pregnant and someone else--probably a friend who was also with child.
by Veneta Donaldson
Give unto him a joyous heart,
And lift him high above the crowd;
Yet may he know that he's a part
Of all of life, from dust to shroud.
Give unto him a fervent will
To rise above a heart's despair;
But if he fails, there is still
Compassionate beauty to share.
Give unto him the need to dream,
Fulfilled by word, or sound or form;
And when the hours are not what they seem,
Release him from contingent harm.
Give unto him a spirit deep
Enveloping the human race,
Instill in him the wish to keep
The true formalities of grace.
Mold him by Thy divinity,
This child that is yet to be.
The next poem in this series can be found here: I Saw Her Standing There.
This is part of a series of poems by Veneta Donaldson. A brief bio and the beginning of the series can be found here: Veneta Donaldson: A Poet in the Family.