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Heed not flowers that round thee bloom,
Bear it onward to the tomb!

Hafte not let no thoughtless deed
Mar for aye the spirit's speed!
Ponder well and know the right,
Onward then with all thy might!
Hafte not! years can ne'er atone
For one reckless action done.

Reft not! life is sweeping by,
Go and dare before you die:
Something mighty and sublime
Leave behind to conquer time!
Glorious 't is to live for aye,
When these forms have passed away.

Hafte not! reft not! calmly wait;
Meekly bear the ftorms of fate!
Duty be thy polar guide,

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Do the right, whate'er betide!
Hafte not! reft not! conflicts past,
God fhall crown thy work at last.

From the German of Goethe. 1768.

PRAYER.

EXHORTATION TO PRAYER.

N Compose thy weary limbs to reft;
NOT
OT on a prayerless bed, not on a prayerless bed

For they alone are bleft
With balmy fleep

Whom angels keep;

Nor, though by care oppreffed,

Or anxious sorrow,

Or thought in many a coil perplexed

For coming morrow,

Lay not thy head

On prayerless bed.

For who can tell, when fleep thine eye fhall close,

That earthly cares and woes

To thee may e'er return?

Arouse, my soul!

Slumber control,

And let thy lamp burn brightly;

So fhall thine eyes discern

Things pure and fightly;
Taught by the spirit; learn
Never on prayerless bed

To lay thine unblest head.

Haft thou no pining want, or wish, or care,
That calls for holy prayer?

Has thy day been so bright
That in its flight

There is no trace of sorrow?
And art thou sure to-morrow

Will be like this, and more

Abundant? Doft thou yet lay up thy ftore,
And still make plans for more?
Thou fool! this very night

Thy soul may wing its flight.

Haft thou no being than thyself more dear,
That ploughs the ocean deep,
And when ftorms sweep

The wintry, lowering sky,

For whom thou wak'ft and weepest?
O when thy pangs are deepest,
Seek then the covenant ark of prayer!
For He that flumbereth not is there:
His ear is open to thy cry.

O, then, on prayerless bed
Lay not thy thoughtless head!

Arouse thee, weary soul, nor yield to flumber!

Till in communion bleft

With the elect ye reft,

Those souls of countless number;

And with them raise

The note of praise,
Reaching from earth to Heaven:
Chosen, redeemed, forgiven!

So lay thy happy head,
Prayer-crowned, on blessed bed.

Margaret Mercer.

PRAYER.

"I will, therefore, that men pray everywhere, lifting up holy hands, without wrath and doubting." I TIM. ii. 8.

E not afraid to pray, to pray is right.

BE

Pray, if thou canst, with hope; but ever pray, Though hope be weak, or sick with long delay;

Pray in the darkness, if there be no light.

Far is the time, remote from human fight,

When war and discord on the earth fhall cease; Yet every prayer for universal peace Avails the bleffed time to expedite.

Whate'er is good to wish, ask that of Heaven, Though it be what thou canst not hope to see;

Pray to be perfect, though material leaven
Forbid the spirit so on earth to be;

But if for any wish thou darest not pray,
Then pray to God to caft that with away.

Hartley Coleridge. 1840.

THE PRAYERS I MAKE.

THE

HE prayers I make will then be sweet indeed, If Thou the spirit give by which I pray; My unaffifted heart is barren clay, That of its native self can nothing feed; Of good and pious works Thou art the seed That quickens only where Thou sayft it may. Unless Thou fhow to us Thy own true way, No man can find it: Father! Thou must lead; Do Thou then breathe those thoughts into my mind By which such virtue may in me be bred

That in Thy holy footsteps I may tread;

The fetters of my tongue do Thou unbind,

That I may have the power to fing to Thee,

And sound Thy praises everlastingly!

Michel Angelo. Transl. by Wordsworth. 1474-1564.

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