Do I mean the prayers I offer—do I feel the words I say, When before our Heavenly Father I kneel down from day to day? When at morning and at evening I incline to seek his face, And my voice goes up in pleading to his glorious throne of grace? When my voice goes up in pleading, does my heart go with it too? There are many things I ask him that his might and grace may do; Petition on petition goes up to meet his ear, Oh! are they such petitions as our Father loves to hear? I tell him of my wants—my needs; but when I turn away, Do I think of what I ask for? Do I watch as well as pray? Do I strive against temptation? Do I seek like Christ to live? Do I use aright the blessings that so freely he doth give? My prayers are with much speaking—yet when I leave the spot, How quickly are its memories fled—how soon those prayers forgot! Oh! if the thought that gave them birth, so lightly treasured be, How can I think God's mercy will remember them for me? Yet one petition further, Lord, wilt thou not deign to hear? Oh! let thy Spirit breathe anew through all my daily prayer. Then help me, as I pray, to live, kept by thy grace divine— And the glory of the prayer and life, alike, O Lord! be thine.—Sel.