poems.
61
O Blessed Light! O Power Divine!
From thee flows every good:
Thou only source of life and joy,
Whose truth hath ever stood,
Shine on me still, and bless mine hours of solitude!
From thee flows every good:
Thou only source of life and joy,
Whose truth hath ever stood,
Shine on me still, and bless mine hours of solitude!
ON CHRIST RETIRING FOR PRAYER AT EVENING.
The sun in brightness sat on Judah's stream;
Fair was the scene that caught her latest beam;
And fair the shadow'd vale and silent wood,
Deposing in their sacred solitude,—
When from the many whom his hand had heal'd,
While heavenly truths his gracious lips reveal'd
To guide them heavenward, our Saviour stray'd,
And, 'mid the olive-trees, to Heaven he pray'd.
He sought the stillness of the ev'ning hour;—
Holy now be it, for that he whose power
Did works of mercy, to his Father knelt
And pour'd the depths of love his spirit felt
In pray'r for man to God! Thus did he pray
And consecrate the parting hour of day
By heavenly devotion. Let us, then,
Steal from the busy throng of worldly men,
And, when the melting light of day declines
And when the first star in its beauty shines,
Pray to his God and ours.
Fair was the scene that caught her latest beam;
And fair the shadow'd vale and silent wood,
Deposing in their sacred solitude,—
When from the many whom his hand had heal'd,
While heavenly truths his gracious lips reveal'd
To guide them heavenward, our Saviour stray'd,
And, 'mid the olive-trees, to Heaven he pray'd.
He sought the stillness of the ev'ning hour;—
Holy now be it, for that he whose power
Did works of mercy, to his Father knelt
And pour'd the depths of love his spirit felt
In pray'r for man to God! Thus did he pray
And consecrate the parting hour of day
By heavenly devotion. Let us, then,
Steal from the busy throng of worldly men,
And, when the melting light of day declines
And when the first star in its beauty shines,
Pray to his God and ours.
