O Father, may I behold Thee: above, beneath, behind, around — wherever I turn my gaze! Train the children of my senses to wander not away from Thy home. Turn my eyes within, to gaze upon Thine ever-changing beauty; train my ears to listen to Thine unheard song. I will catch the breath of Thy scented presence. Orient-wise, I will worship Thee, placing on Thine altar the candles of my five senses. So will I contact Thee in the first pale shaft of dawn, in the bright light of noon, in the hidden glow of twilight, in the silver moonlight — keeping alight before Thee, always, the mystic taper of my love.