Lord, now it's time to pray My thoughts refuse to come, like children too absorbed in play To turn their footsteps home; And I confess with Shame, Their slowness to obey, Knowing I am myself to blame: They do not want to pray. But when my thoughts are still, Like children put to bed, And silence teaches me to feel How little need be said: Then would I quietly sit, To reach that Point in prayer When, Lord, the surest part of it Is knowing you are there.