THE HOUR OF PRAYER.
Child, amid the flowers at play,
While the red light fades away;
Mother, with thine earnest eye,
Ever following silently;
Father, by the breeze of eve
Called thy harvest work to leave—
Pray ere yet the dark hours be,
Lift the heart and bend the knee!
Traveller, in the stranger's land,
Far from thine own household band;
Mourner, haunted by the tone
Of a voice from this world gone ;
Captive, in whose narrow cell
Sunshine hath not leave to dwell;
Sailor, on the darkening sea-
Lift the heart and bend the knee. .
Ye that triumph, ye that sigh,
Kindred by one holy tie,
Heaven's first star alike ye see-
Lift the heart and bend the knee!
"PRAY WITHOUT CEASING."
Go when the morning shineth,
Go when the noon is bright,
Go when the eve declineth,
Go in the hush of night;
Go with pure mind and feeling,
Fling earthly thought away,
And in thy chamber kneeling,
Do thou in secret pray. .
Or if 'tis e'er denied thee
In solitude to pray,
Should holy thoughts come o'er thee
When friends are round thy way;
E'en then the silent breathing,
Thy spirit raised above,
Will reach his throne of glory
Who is mercy, truth, and love.
We watched her breathing through the night,
Her breathing soft and low,
As in her breast the wave of life
Kept heaving to and fro.
So silently we seemed to speak,
So slowly moved about,
As we had lent her half our powers
To eke her living out.
Our very hopes belied our fears,
Our fears our hopes belied,-
We thought her dying when she slept
And sleeping when she died.
For when the morn came dim and sad,
And chill with early showers,
Her quiet eyelids closed, she had
Another morn than ours.
She stood breast high amid the corn,
Clasped by the golden light of morn,
Like the sweetheart of the sun,
Who many a glowing kiss had won.
On her cheek an autumn flush,
Deeply ripened ;-such a blush
In the midst of brown was born,
Like red poppies grown with corn.
Round her eyes her tresses fell,
Which were blackest none could tell,
But long lashes veiled a light
That had else been all too bright.
And her hat, with shady brim,
Made her tressy forehead dim.—
Thus she stood amid the stooks,
Praising God with sweetest looks.—
Sure, I said, Heaven did not mean,
Where I reap thou shouldst but glean;
Lay thy sheaf adown and come,
Share my harvest and my home.
From BEN BATTLE.
[Last verse mis-sorted.]
Ben Battle was a soldier bold,
And used to war's alarms;
But a cannon-ball took off his legs,
So he laid down his arms.
Now as they bore him off the field,
Said he, "Let others shoot,
For here I leave my second leg,
And the Forty-second Foot"!. .
Now Ben he loved a pretty maid,
Her name was Nelly Gray,
So he went to pay her his devours,
When he'd devoured his pay.
"Before you had those timber toes,
Your love I did allow,
But then, you know, you stand upon
Another footing now!" . .
"O false and fickle Nelly Gray,
I know why you refuse;
Though I've no feet, some other man
Is standing in my shoes. . .
"O Nelly Gray! O Nelly Gray!
Is this your love so warm?
The love that loves a scarlet coat
Should be more uniform !" . .
From MISS KILMANSEGG.
Oh bed! oh bed! delicious bed!
That heaven upon earth to the weary
TO A GIRL IN HER THIRTEENTH YEAR.
Thy smiles, thy talk, thy aimless plays,
So beautiful approve thee,
So winning light are all thy ways,
I cannot choose but love thee. . . .
Thy steps are dancing toward the bound
Between the child and woman,
And thoughts and feelings more profound,
And other years are coming :
And thou shalt be more deeply fair,
More precious to the heart, But never canst thou be again That lovely thing thou art.
Smile on, then, little winsome thing!
All rich in nature's treasure,
Thou hast within thy heart a spring
Of self-renewing pleasure. .
In your sweet simple nature of woman,
You have the ascendant you seek ;
You are worshipped because you are human,
And potent because you are weak.
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