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PRAYER.
And weary feet are resting now
Which devious ways have trod;
Shall lack of faith, and lack of hope,
Disturb and tear my breast?
Shall doubt of Heaven's mercy fill me
With a vague unrest?

Perplexed and dark my spirit is,
I cannot see the way;
And grim night flings its banners out
Across the brow of day;
But though the distant heights are hid
In veils of chilly mist,
I'll not despair,—the vapors flee
When by the sunbeams kissed.

Heaven seems a long, long distance off,—
Shut in by brazen bars;
Forbidding in their pale, pure light
Twinkle the gleaming stars.
Failing to call a blessing down,
I'll climb the winding stair,
And reach the City of our God,
Borne by the breath of prayer.