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O, hour of bliss! when the heart o'erflows
With rapture a mother only knows,
Let it gush forth in words of fervent prayer:
Let it swell up to heaven for her precious care.
There are smiles and tears in that gathering band, Where the heart is pledged with the trembling
What trying thoughts in her bosem swell,
As the bride bids parents and home farewell!
Kneel down by the side of the tearful fair,
And strengthen the perilous hour with prayer.
Kneel down by the dying sinner's side,
And pray for his soul through him who died.
Large drops of anguish are thick on his brow~~~-
O, what is earth and its pleasures now!
And what shall assuage his dark despair,
But the penitent cry of humble prayer?
Kneel down at the couch of departing faith,
And hear the last words the believer saith,
He has bidden adieu to his earthly friends;
There is peace in his eye that upwards bends;
There is peace in his calm, confiding air;
For his last thoughts are God's, his last words
The voice of prayer at the sable bier!
A voice to sustain, to soothe, and to cheer.
It commends the spirit to God who gave;
It lifts the thoughts from the cold, dark grave;
It points to the glory where he shall reign,
Who whisper'd, "Thy brother shall rise again."
The voice of prayer in the world of bliss!
But gladder, purer, than rose from this.
The ransomed shout to their glorious King,
Where no sorrow shades the soul as they sing ;
But a sinless and joyous song they raise ;
And their voice of prayer is eternal praise.
Awake, awake, and gird up thy strength
To join that holy band at length.
To him who unceasing love displays,
Whom the powers of nature unceasingly praise,
To him thy heart and thy hours be given;
For a life of prayer is the life of heaven.
Henry Ware jun.
JESUS BLESSING LITTLE CHILDREN.
"Suffer little children, and forbid them not, to come unto me." Matthew xix. 14.
"And he took them up in his arms, put his hands upon them, and blessed them."- Mark x. 16.
Ir ever in the human heart
A fitting season there can be,
Worthy of its immortal part,
Worthy, O blessed Lord of thee;
"T is in that yet unsullied hour
Or ere the world has claimed its own
Pure as the hues within the flower,
To summer and the sun unknown;
When still the youthful spirit bears
The image of its God within,
And uneffaced that beauty wears,
So soon to be destroyed by sin.
Then is the time for Faith and Love
To take in charge their precious care,
Teach the young eye to look above,
knee to bend in prayer.
This work is ours-this charge was thine-
These youthful souls from sin to save;
To lead them in thy faith divine,
And teach its triumph o'er the grave.
The world will come with care and crime,
And tempt too many a heart astray;
Still the seed sown in early time
Will not be wholly cast away.
The infant prayer, the infant hymn,
Within the darkened soul will rise
When age's weary eye is dim,
And the grave's shadow round us lies.
The infant hymn is heard again,
The infant prayer is heard once more,
Reclasping of a broken chain,
We turn to all we loved before.
Lord grant our hearts be so inclined
Thy work to seek thy will to do,
And while we teach the youthful mind
Our own be taught thy lesson too.
"SUFFER that little children come to me, Forbid them not:" Imboldened by his words,
The mothers onward press; but, finding vain The attempt to reach the Lord, they trust their babes
To strangers' hands; The innocents alarmed,
Amid the throng of faces all unknown,
Shrink trembling,- till their wandering eyes
The countenance of Jesus beaming love
And pity; eager then they stretch their arms,
And, cowering, lay their heads upon his breast.
LOCKED in the bosom of the earth
The little seed its heart doth stir,
And quickening for its mystic birth,
Bursts from its cleaving sepulchre.
The aspiring head, the unfolding leaf,
Exulting in their joyous lot,
Turn grateful towards the Eye of Day, -
Hinder them not.
Thus do the buds of being rise
From cradle-dreams, like snow-drop meek, While through their mind-illumined eyes A deathless principle doth speak,