THE MOURNER'S PRAYER

Publishing Committee · Battle Creek, Mich. · Feb 18, 1858

THE MOURNER'S PRAYER.

STRENGTH from on high! Give strength. O God A fainting suppliant bends the knee, Who fain would kiss the chastening rod, And bless the stroke that comes from thee.

My Father! did thine erring child Bow down before an idol shrine, And in that worship vain and wild, Forget the homage that is thine?

And didst thou see that earthly love Had made this world of thine, too fair, And dimmed the brighter world above, And veiled the radiant glory there?

'Tis well.—O God of love! 'tis well! I will bend lowly at thy throne, If from my lips one murmur fell, Forgive! and let "thy will be done."

Yet now, I faint beneath the storm, And bow me like a bruised reed, Father! uphold this drooping form, Give strength in this mine hour of need.

And since the fragile cords of love That bound my hopes to earth are riven, Oh lead the stricken heart above, And bind it closer unto heaven.—Sel.