We bow our heads before Thee, and we laud
And magnify Thy name, Almighty God!
But Man is Thy most awful instrument,
In working out a pure intent.
With faint praises one another damn.
The love of praise, howe'er conoeal'd by art,
Reigns more or less, and glows, in ev'ry heart.
I grant the man is vain who writes for praise.
Praise no man e'er deserved who sought no more.
The most pleasing of all sounds that of your own praise.
PRAYER
Yet then from all my grief, O Lord,
Thy mercy set me free,
Whilst in the confidence of pray'r
My soul took hold on thee.
Prayer is the spirit speaking truth to Truth.
Bailey—Festus. Sc. Elsewhere.
And from the prayer of Want, and plaint of Woe,
O never, never turn away thine ear!
Forlorn, in this bleak wilderness below,
Ah! what were man, should Heaven refuse to hear!
Beattie—Minstrel. Bk. I. St. 29.
God answers sharp and sudden on some prayers,
And thrusts the thing we have prayed for in our face,
A gauntlet with a gift in 't.
E. B. Browning—Aurora Leigh. Bk. II.
Every wish
Is like a prayer—with God.
E. B. Browning—Aurora Leigh. Bk. II.
Hope, he called, belief
In God,—work, worship * * * therefore let us pray!
E. B. Browning—Aurora Leigh. Bk. III.
She knows omnipotence has heard her prayer
And cries, "It shall be done—sometime,
somewhere."
Ophelia G. Browning—Unanswered.
Just my vengeance complete,
The man sprang to his feet,
Stood erect, caught at God's skirts, and prayed!
So, I was afraid!
Robert Browning—Instans Tyrannus. VII.
They never sought in vain that sought the Lord
aright!
Burns—The Cotter's Saturday Night. St. 6.
Father! no prophet's laws I seek,—
Thy laws in Nature's works appear; 1—
I own myself corrupt and weak,
Yet will I pray, for thou wilt hear.
Father of Light! great God of Heaven!
Hear'st thou the accents of despair?
Can guilt like man's be e'er forgiven?
Can vice atone for crimes by prayer?
Pray to be perfect, though material leaven
Forbid the spirit so on earth to be;
But if for any wish thou darest not pray,
Then pray to God to cast that wish away.
Hartley Coleridge—Poems. (Posthumous.)
Prayer.
He prayeth best who loveth best
All things, both great and small.
Coleridge—Ancient Mariner. Pt. VII.
He prayeth well who loveth well
Both man and bird and beast.
Coleridge—Ancient Mariner. Pt. VII.
The saints will aid if men will call:
For the blue sky bends over all.
Coleridge—Christabel. Conclusion to Pt. 1.
But maybe prayer is a road to rise,
A mountain path leading toward the skies
To assist the spirit who truly tries.
But it isn't a shibboleth, creed, nor code,
It isn't a pack-horse to carry your load,
It isn't a wagon, it's only a road.
And perhaps the reward of the spirit who tries
Is not the goal, but the exercise!
Edmund Vance Cooke—Prayer. The Uncommon Commoner.
Not as we wanted it,
But as God granted it.
Quiller Couch—To Bearers.
And Satan trembles when he sees
The weakest saint upon his knees.
| author = Cowper
| work = Hymns. Exhortation to Prayer.
I ask not a life for the dear ones,
All radiant, as others have done,
But that life may have just enough shadow
To temper the glare of the sun;
I would pray God to guard them from evil,
But my prayer would bound back to myself:
Ah! a seraph may pray for a sinner,
But a sinner must pray for himself.
Charles M. Dickinson—The Children.
Our vows are heard betimes! and Heaven takes care
To grant, before we can conclude the prayer:
Preventing angels met it half the way,
And sent us back to praise, who came to pray.
