Prayer is the burthen of a sigh, The falling of a tear;
The upward glancing of an eye, When none but God is near.
Prayer is the simplest form of speech That infant lips can try;
Prayer the sublimest strains that reach The Majesty on high.
Prayer is the Christian's vital breath, The Christian's native air,
His watchword at the gates of death, He enters heaven by prayer.
Prayer is the contrite sinner's voice, Returning from his ways; While angels in their songs rejoice, And say, "Behold, he prays."
The saints, in prayer, appear as one, In word, and deed, and mind, When with the Father and his Son Their fellowship they find.
Nor prayer is made on earth alone: The Holy Spirit pleads;
And Jesus, on the eternal throne, For sinners intercedes.
O thou, by whom we come to God, The Life, the Truth, the Way: The path of prayer thyself hast trod: Lord, teach us how to pray.
"Pray without ceasing."-1 THES. V. 17. "HE prayeth best who loveth best," For he who hears above, "Our Father" ever watches us With all a father's love.
He prayeth most who feareth most To do an evil thing,
And to the right against the might Courageously will cling.
He prayeth best who beareth best All earthly wrong or ill,
Who bears and forbears, yet, because It is his Father's will.
He prayeth best who striveth best, To win the heavenly race,
And runneth, as the goal he sought, Before his Father's face.
He prayeth most who trusteth most In God's revealed word, Whose heart each day unceasingly By faith and hope is stirr❜d.
He prayeth best who worketh best Salvation out on earth,
By charity and holiness,
By righteousness and worth.
He prayeth most who weepeth most At his own sin and shame, Yet in his Saviour joyeth most, And triumphs in his name.
THE EARTH BEFORE THE FALL.
How beauteous wert thou, Earth, when fair and new From thy Creator's hand, thou first didst move In calm and silent grandeur, with the smile Of the Eternal round thee, and with man Form'd in His likeness glorious; and great In perfect innocence.-Then the sweet dove Nestled at night beneath the vulture's wing; While night's choice bird, would on the eagle's ear, Pour its melodious hymn; then beauty threw A heavenly radiance on the serpent's form, So heavenly, that it seem'd as it were sent For man to worship daily; then the herb Put forth its bloom uncull'd by misery's hand; And, oh! the shrivell'd lip on morning's dew Sigh'd not its fevers, and the burning brow Scath'd not the rose that bound them. Then the sun, In newest glory, had not known a cloud, The moon a halo, nor the stainless blue
Of heaven's pure arch the shadow of a storm: The glowing planets, and the sparkling stars, Stood clear at midnight; and the waveless streams In which their twinkling was reflected full Till morning's dawn, spoke of the certain peace 'Twixt Earth and Heaven, whose all-admiring sons Came down to muse with man, and teach him how To speak the joy befitting such a time.
Oh! blessed holy time, when joy but raised Her voice in gratitude for blissful things: Ere hearts began to leap at human woe, Or at a brother's fall: ere blood had paid The deed of blood; or the pure front of Heaven Was crimson'd by war's carnage, and gaunt death
Shook his black crest exulting o'er the plain, By cursed ambition strewn. The laurel grew Twined with the olive, on fair Eden's banks; The hero's mailed hand had not yet torn
It thence to flourish o'er his gore-stain'd brow, To draw the homage of a trembling world: Woman's fair speech had not brought death to man, Nor man's offences drawn the thunders down From wrath-enkindled skies, mingled with fire, Tornado, torrent, and wild whirlwind.- Silent, and gorgeous hung the canopy Of azure heaven, over the emerald deep, That shew the rocks of flawless crystal, and Masses of virgin marble like a mirror, Reflecting all the purple-hooded hills And lofty mountains to their very tops, In all their herbage green: All! all! was peace, Beauty, and glory, and sublimity;
Divinity's first law!-'Twas then that God Moved in his mighty essence through the walks And shady bowers of Eden;-Happy man Met him with open forehead, pure at heart, And heard his voice with joy.
AND now on earth the seventh
Evening arose in Eden, for the sun
Was set, and twilight from the East came on, Forerunning night; when at the holy mount Of heaven's high-seated top, the imperial throne Of Godhead fix'd for ever firm and sure,
The Filial Power arrived, and sat him down With his great Father there; and, from his work Now resting, bless'd and hallow'd the seventh day, As resting on that day from all his work. But not in silence holy kept: the harp Had work and rested not; the solemn pipe, And dulcimer, all organs of sweet stop, All sounds on fret by string or golden wire, Temper'd soft tunings, intermix'd with voice Choral or unison; of incense, clouds, Fuming from golden censers, hid the mount. Creation and the six days' acts they sung: "Great are thy works, Jehovah! infinite
Thy power! what thought can measure thee, or tongue
Relate thee? Greater now in thy return Than from the giant angels: thee that day Thy thunders magnified; but to create Is greater than created to destroy.
Who can impair thee, Mighty King, or bound Thy empire? Easily the proud attempt Of sp'rits apostate, and their counsels vain, Thou hast repell'd; while impiously they thought Thee to diminish, and from thee withdraw The number of thy worshippers. Who seeks To lessen thee, against his purpose serves To manifest the more thy might; his evil Thou usest, and from thence creat'st more good. Witness this new-made world, another heaven From heaven-gate not far, founded in view On the clear hyaline, the glassy sea; Of amplitude almost immense, with stars Numerous, and every star perhaps a world Of destined habitation; but thou know'st
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