Page images
PDF
EPUB

The Orphan's Prayer.

J. E. CARPENTER.-Music by Franz Abt.

HEAVENLY Father! King of might!

Place Thy guardian angels o'er me;

Once again from sleep restore me; Guard me through the coming night! None but Thee, O Lord! can guide me, Earthly father is denied me;

Hear, oh hear, the orphan's prayer,

Heavenly Father!

Heavenly Father! King of kings!
Take my spirit to thy keeping!
O'er my couch while I am sleeping,
Let thine angels spread their wings;
In the world a pilgrim lonely,
Trusting to Thy goodness only;

Thou wilt hear the orphan's prayer,

Heavenly Father!

The Last Trump.

JOHN DRYDEN.

AS grew the power of sacred lays,

The spheres began to move,

And sung the great Creator's praise
To all the bless'd above:

So when the last and dreadful hour
This crumbling pageant shall devour,
The trumpet shall be heard on high,
The dead shall live, the living die,
And music shall untune the sky.

Never hold Malice.

29

Never hold Malice.

ELIZA COOK.

H! never "hold malice;" it poisons our life,

OH!

With the gall-drop of hate and the nightshade of strife;

Let us scorn where we must, and despise where we may,
But let anger like sunlight go down with the day.
Our spirits in clashing may bear the hot spark,
But no smouldering flame to break out in the dark;
'Tis the narrowest heart that creation can make,
Where our passion folds up like the coils of a snake.

Oh! never "hold malice;" it cannot be good,
For 'tis nobler to strike in the rush of hot blood
Than to bitterly cherish the name of the foc,
Wait to sharpen a weapon and measure the blow.
The wild dog in hunger-the wolf in its spring-
The shark of the waters-the asp with its sting-
Are less to be fear'd than the vengeance of man,
When it lieth in secret to wound when it can.

Oh! never

"hold malice ;" dislike if you will, Yet remember humanity linketh us still; We are all of us human, and all of us erring, And mercy within us should ever be stirring. Shall we dare to look up to the Father above, With petitions for pardon or pleading for love?

Shall we

dare, while we pant for revenge on another,

To ask from a God yet deny to a brother?

Death's Final Conquest.

JAMES SHIRLEY.-Music by Edward Coleman.

HE glories of our birth and state

ΤΗ

Are shadows, not substantial things;

There is no armour against fate :
Death lays his icy hands on kings.

Sceptre and crown

Must tumble down,

And in the dust be equal made

With the poor crooked scythe and spade.

Some men with swords may reap the field,
And plant fresh laurels where they kill ;
But their strong nerves at last must yield—
They tame but one another still.
Early and late

They stoop to fate,

And must give up their murmuring breath, When they, pale captives, creep to death.

The garlands wither on your brow-
Then boast no more your mighty deeds;
Upon death's purple altar now,

See where the victor-victim bleeds:

All heads must come

To the cold tomb;

Only the actions of the just

Smell sweet and blossom in the dust.

Christian Courage.

31

Seeds of Light.

J. R. LOWELL.

OD scatters love on every side

Go

Freely among His children all, And always hearts are lying open wide Wherein some grains may fall.

There is no wind but soweth seeds
Of a more true and open life,

Which burst, unlook'd for, into high-soul'd deeds,
With wayside beauty rife.

We find within these souls of ours Some wild germs of a higher birth, Which in the poet's tropic heart bear flowers Whose fragrance fills the earth.

Within the hearts of all men lie

Those promises of wider bliss,

Which blossom into hopes that cannot die,
In sunny hours like this.

Christian Courage.

REV. JOHN KEBLE.

OH, shame upon thee, listless heart,

So sad a sigh to heave;

As if thy Saviour had no part

In thoughts that make thee grieve.

As if along His lonesome way

He had not borne for thee

Sad languors through the summer day,
Storms on the wintry sea.

Thou shalt have joy in sadness soon;
The pure, calm hope be thine,
Which brightens, like the eastern morn,
As day's wild lights decline.

Fear Not, but Trust in Providence.

THOMAS HAYNES BAYLY.-Music by S. Nelson.

"AH, pilot! 'tis a fearful night,

There's danger on the deep;

I'll come and pace the deck with thee,

I do not dare to sleep."

"Go down!" the sailor cried, "go down '

This is no place for thee;

Fear not, but trust in Providence,

[ocr errors]

Wherever thou mayst be."

Ah, pilot! dangers often met,
We all are apt to slight;

And thou hast known the raging waves

But to subdue their might."

"It is not apathy," he cried,

"That gives this strength to me ;

Fear not, but trust in Providence,

Wherever thou mayst be.

« PreviousContinue »