PRAYER. 549 PRAYE R. A PRAYER. IMITATED FROM THE PERSIAN. JORD! who art merciful as well as just, Father Almighty, who hast made me man, THE FORCE OF PRAYER. "WHAT is good for a bootless bene ?" With these dark words begins my tale; And their meaning is, "Whence can comfort spring, When prayer is of no avail ?” "What is good for a bootless bene?" And she made answer, "Endless sorrow!" She knew it by the falconer's words, -Young Romilly through Barden woods And holds a greyhound in a leash, And the pair have reached that fearful chasm, For lordly Wharf is there pent in With rocks on either side. This striding-place is called the "Strid,” A thousand years hath it borne that name, And hither is young Romilly come, That he, perhaps for the hundredth time, ROBERT SOUTHEY. Long, long in darkness did she sit, The stately priory was reared, And the lady prayed in heaviness Oh, there is never sorrow of heart WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. THE PRAYERS I MAKE. THE prayers I make will then be sweet indeed, By which such virtue may in me be bred MICHAEL ANGELO. Translated by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. Walk with thy fellow-creatures: note the hush And whisperings amongst them. Not a spring Or leaf but hath his morning hymn; each bush And oak doth know I AM. Canst thou not sing? Oh, leave thy cares and follies! go this way, And thou art sure to prosper all the day. Serve God before the world; let him not go Until thou hast a blessing; then resign The whole unto him, and remember who Prevailed by wrestling ere the sun did shine; Pour oil upon the stones, weep for thy sin, Then journey on, and have an eye to heaven. Mornings are mysteries: the world's first youth, Man's resurrection, and the future's bud, Shroud in their births; the crown of life, light, truth, Is styled their star, the store and hidden MISS BRACKETT is a teacher of eminence in the City of New York. She was born in Boston, in 1836. After graduation at the Normal School at Framingham, Mass., in 1856, she taught in Charleston, S. C., Cambridge, Mass., and St. Louis, Mo., before going to New York. THE two best gifts in all the perfect world The hands rest even on the outstretched knees Like those stone forms the wildered traveller sees In dreamy Eastern lands. I reach to grasp: but lo! that hand withdraws, The other forward glides; The silent gesture says: "This is for thee, For changing times and tides.” 551 HAST THOU WITHIN A CARE SO HAST thou within a care so deep, Hast thou a hope with which thy heart Hast thou a friend whose image dear THE EFFECTS OF PRAYER. RICHARD CHENEVIX TRENCH, a learned divine of the English Church, was born at Dublin, Sept. 9, 1807 Formerly Dean of Westminster, he is now Archbishop of Dub.in. He has been a diligent student of language, and has translated from the Latin, German, and Spanish. His "Study of Words" and "Lessous in Proverbs are widely read His poems were published in 185. Among his other works are "The Synonymes of the New Testament," a volume of Latin poetry, and the ** Parables” and “Miracles" of Christ. LORD, what a change within us one short hour Spent in thy presence will prevail to make! What heavy burdens from our bosoms take, What parched grounds revive, as with a shower! We kneel, and all around us seems to lower; We rise, and all, the distant and the near, Stands forth a sunny outline brave and clear WHEN prayer delights thee least, then learn We kneel, how weak! We rise, how full of Soul, now is greatest need that thou shouldst Why, wherefore should we do ourselves this ALL night the lonely suppliant prayed, Then sank that stricken heart in dust; "Doth it repent thee of thy love, PRAYER. Come, Lord - oh, come!' I cry alway; "Oh, dull of heart! enclosed doth lie To Pharaoh, save a contrite heart: All other gifts unto his foes He freely gives, nor grudging knows ; But Love's sweet smart, and costly pain, A treasure for his friends remain." RICHARD CHENEVIX TRENCH, D. D. Since holy blame to mercy's throne aspires, Confess faults' guilt, crave pardon for thy sin, Tread holy paths, call grace to guide therein. It is the spirit with reverence must obey Our Maker's will, to practise what he taught: Make not the flesh thy council when thou pray; 'Tis enemy to every virtuous thought; It is the foe we daily feed and clothe ; It is the prison that the soul doth loathe. Even as Elias, mounting to the sky, Did cast his mantle to the earth behind; So, when the heart presents the prayer on high, Exclude the world from traffic with the mind: Lips near to God, and ranging heart within, Is but vain babbling, and converts to sin. Like Abraham, ascending up the hill To sacrifice, his servants left below, That he might act the great Commander's will, Without impeach to his obedient blow; Even so the soul, remote from earthly things, Should mount salvation's shelter, - mercy's wings. ROBERT SOUTHWELL, D. D. 553 It looks so sweet, it looks so dear. "Dear Lord,” I pray, "oh, let me know If it is wrong to want it so." He only smiles, he does not speak; My heart grows weaker and more weak, With looking at the thing so dear, Which lies so far and yet so near. Now, Lord, I leave at thy loved feet This thing which looks so near, so sweet, I almost fear I have been wrong. SAXE HOLM. THE MERCY-SEAT. HUGH STOWELL, an eloquent and powerful clergyman of the Church of England, was born on the Isle of Man, Dec. 3, 1799, and died Oct. 8, 1865. He published a collection of psalms and hymns suited to the service of the Church of England, in 1831. FROM every stormy wind that blows, There is a place where Jesus sheds There is a spot where spirits blend, Ah, whither could we flee for aid, There, there on eagle wings we soar, |