All Poor Creatures Born To Die

This was the sunset over Ceridwen's barnyard tonight, and here is a poem that was written just fifty-eight years ago and forty miles away.

Happy St. David's Day!

Every morning when I wake,
Dear Lord, a little prayer I make,
O please do keep Thy lovely eye
On all poor creatures born to die

And every evening at sun-down
I ask a blessing on the town,
For whether we last the night or no
I'm sure is always touch-and-go.

We are not wholly bad or good
Who live our lives under Milk Wood,
And Thou, I know, wilt be the first
To see our best side, not our worst.

O let us see another day!
Bless us all this night, I pray,
And to the sun we all will bow
And say, good-bye - but just for now!

--"Rev. Eli Jenkins' Prayer" from Under Milk Wood (1954) by Dylan Thomas