His Miracle Poem by Mahathi Mydavolu

Show me thy miracle O Lord...
I accept it as thine good grace!
But pray, thee tender heave thy rod
and remember my credulous face!

And Lord don't give me the pain of joy
and thrills that corrupt human flesh!
An overabundance does cloy
thee know...yes less is sacred blest!

Let no loose longings ooze in me
O Lord and no material hopes!
Spread not those meady treats on leas
I tread; I know they're baleful dopes!

How sly thou're Lord, thee toss these baits!
Well, well I too don't change my gait!