Sheltered, and safe, and free from pain, Thy presence fills my mind with peace, This ftriking of my pilgrim tent The spacious earth is all thine own; Whether again my home I see, Or yield on foreign fhores my breath, Take not thy presence, Lord, from me, In life or death! In thee, my hiding-place divine, Be reft throughout life's journeyings given: Then sweeter, holier reft be mine, With Thee in heaven! Charlotte Elliott. PRAYER IN DESPONDENCY. Bow OWED 'neath the load of human ill, We ask not length of days, nor ease, At times despond, or turn from Thee. From Mary Howitt's "Seven Temptations.' THAT ABIDE IN ME, AND I IN YOU. HAT myftic word of Thine, O sovereign Lord, Is all too pure, too high, too deep for me! Weary with striving and with longing faint, I breathe it back again in prayer to Thee. Abide in me, I pray, and I in Thee! From this good hour, O leave me never more! Then shall the discord cease, the wound be healed, The lifelong bleeding of the soul be o'er. Abide in me,o'erfhadow by Thy love Each half-formed purpose and dark thought of sin; Quench, ere it rise, each selfish, low defire, And keep my soul as Thine, calm and divine: As some rare perfume in a vase of clay So, when Thou dwelleft in a mortal soul, All heaven's own sweetness seems around it thrown. The soul alone, like a neglected harp, Grows out of tune, and needs that Hand divine. Dwell Thou within it, tune and touch the chords, Till every note and ftring fhall answer Thine. Abide in me: there have been moments pure, When I have seen Thy face and felt Thy power; Then evil loft its grasp, and paffion, hushed, Owned the divine enchantment of the hour. These were but seasons beautiful and rare; I Abide in me, and they shall ever be: pray Thee now fulfil my earneft prayer, Come and abide in me, and I in Thee. Mrs. H. B. Stowe. LITANY TO THE HOLY SPIRIT. N the hour of my distress, And when I my fins confess, Sweet Spirit, comfort me. When I lie within my bed, Sick at heart and fick at head, And with doubts disquieted, Sweet Spirit, comfort me. When the house doth figh and weep, Yet mine eyes the watch do keep, Sweet Spirit, comfort me. When the paffing-bell doth toll, And the furies in a fhoal Come to fright a parting soul, Sweet Spirit, comfort me. When, God knows, I'm toffed about, Either with despair or doubt, Yet before the glass be out, Sweet Spirit, comfort me. When the tapers now burn blue, And that number more than true, Sweet Spirit, comfort me. When the priest his last hath prayed, 'Cause my speech is now decayed, Sweet Spirit, comfort me. When the tempter me pursu❜th With the fins of all my youth, And half damns me with untruth, Sweet Spirit, comfort me. When the flames and hellish cries Fright mine ears and fright mine eyes, And all terrors me surprise, Sweet Spirit, comfort me. When the judgment is revealed, When to Thee I have appealed, Sweet Spirit, comfort me. Robert Herrick. 1648. |