Jesu,
If Thou wilt make
Thy peach trees bloom for me,
And fringe my bridle path both sides
With tulips, red and free,
If Thou wilt make Thy skies as blue
As ours in Sicily,
And wake the little leaves that sleep
On every bending tree—
I promise not to vexen Thee
That Thou shouldst make eternally
Heaven my home;
But right contently,
A singing page I’ll be
Here, in Thy springtime,
Jesu.

—By Alexander Percy. Sent in by Celinda Evitt of Tampa, FL.