Keep me from getting talkative,
And particularly from the fatal habit of thinking
That I must say something on every subject and on every occasion.
Release me from the craving to straighten out everyones affairs.
Keep my mind from the recital of endless details:
Give me wings to get to the point.
Seal my lips when inclined to tell of my aches and pains.
They are increasing with the years
And my love of reciting them grows sweeter as the years go by.
Teach me the glorious lesson
That occasionally it is possible that I may be mistaken.
Keep me reasonably sweet.
I do not want to be a Saint;
Some of them are hard to live with,
But a sour old woman is one of the crowning works of the Devil.
Help me to extract all possible fun out of life.
There are so many funny things around us,
And I do not want to miss any of them.
Make me thoughtful but not moody,
Helpful but not bossy with my vast store of wisdom,
It seems a pity not to use it all,
But thou my Lord knoweth
That I want a few friends left at the end.