THE UNIVERSAL PRAYER. FATHER of all! in every age, In every clime adored, By saint, by savage, and by sage, Thou great First Cause, least understood, Who all my sense confined Let not this weak, unknowing hand If I am right, Thy grace impart If I am wrong, oh, teach my heart To know but this, that Thou art good, Save me alike from foolish pride, And that myself am blind; Yet gave me, in this dark estate, What conscience dictates to be done, Or warns me not to do, This, teach me more than hell to shun, That, more than heaven pursue. What blessings Thy free bounty gives, Let me not cast away; Or impious discontent, At aught Thy wisdom has denied, Teach me to feel another's woe, Mean though I am, not wholly so, Since quickened by Thy breath; Oh, lead me wheresoe'er go, Through this day's life or death! This day, be bread and peace my lot: All else beneath the sun, For God is paid when man receives; Thou know'st if best bestowed or not, To enjoy is to obey. Yet not to earth's contracted span And let Thy will be done. To Thee, whose temple is all space, NATURE'S LESSON. PAIN is no longer pain when it is past; And what is all the mirth of yesterday, More than the yester flush that paled away, Leaving no trace across the landscape cast Whereby to prove its presence there? The blast Been frustrate, had not Patience stood between, Divinely meek: And let us learn that man, Toiling, enduring, pleading, — calm, serene, For those who scorn and slight, is likest God. THE SHADOW. That bowed the knotted oak beneath IT comes betwixt me and the ame its sway. And rent the lissome ash, the forest may Take heed of longer, since strewn leaves outlast Strewn sunbeams even. Be thou like Nature then, Calmly receptive of all sweet delights, The while they soothe and strengthen thee: and when The wrench of trial comes with swirl and strain, Think of the still progressive days and nights, That blot with equal sweep, both joy and pain. thyst Of yon far mountain's billowy Mild with sun-setting calmness, to range; the sky, landscape dim, aspirations viewless As yon cloud-blotted hills: hopes that shone bright "Who dares," I say, "in such a As planets yester-eve, like them to world be sad?" II. NIGHT. I PRESS my cheek against the window-pane, And gaze abroad into the blank, black space night Are gulfed, the impenetrable mists before: "O weary world!" I cry, "how dare I think Thou hast for me one gleam of gladness more ?" |