I was near it, close to the world around me, seeming
   within me
And glad to be there. The psalm of a child, the singing,
   the glory, the terror
Are like the majestic psalm sung in Office, telling the
   world its trouble,
How the bones sing, are broken, how God is terrible
   too but somehow loving.
Listen, I looked at the sparrow and robin and starling,
Watched their immediate hold on the world, their
   assurance
Obvious in all their singing and arguing, sure that they
   were always essential and needed
As the Great Bear is and the Southern Cross and the
   moon's discreet alterations.
Children are adept and swift at praise undivided
...