CCLXXXIII

PRAYER

BE not afraid to pray-to pray is right.
Pray, if thou canst, with hope; but ever pray,
Though hope be weak, or sick with long delay;
Pray in the darkness, if there be no light.

Far is the time, remote from human sight,
When war and discord on the earth shall cease;
Yet every prayer for universal peace

Avails the blessed time to expedite.

Whate'er is good to wish, ask that of Heaven, Though it be what thou canst not hope to see; Pray to be perfect, though material leaven Forbid the Spirit so on earth to be;

But if for any wish thou dar'st not pray,

Then pray to God to cast that wish away.

H. COLERIDGE.

CCLXXXIV

DESIDERIUM

WEARY is the life I lead,

Beating air with vain endeavour;

Love is left to weep, to bleed;

Those dear eyes are closed for ever!

Closed for ever and for ever!
Not again shall I behold thee,
Not again these arms enfold thee!
Thou art gone for ever!

Nothing now is left for mirth;

All my dreams were false and hollow;
Thou, alas hast left the earth,

May it soon be mine to follow!
Mine to pass the veil and follow!
Eyes of olden hours shall meet me,
Lips of olden love shall greet me,
In the day I follow.

CCLXXXV

P. S. WORSLEY.

CHILD of a day, thou knowest not

The tears that overflow thine urn,

The gushing eyes that read thy lot,

Nor, if thou knewest, couldst return!

And why the wish! the pure and blest
Watch, like thy mother, o'er thy sleep;

O peaceful night! O envied rest!
Thou wilt not ever see her weep.

W. S. LANDOR.

CCLXXXVI

SAY NOT THE STRUGGLE NOUGHT AVAILETH

SAY not the struggle nought availeth,

The labour and the wounds are vain,
The enemy faints not, nor faileth,

And as things have been they remain.

If hopes were dupes, fears may be liars;
It may be, in yon smoke concealed,
Your comrades chase e'en now the flyers,

And, but for you, possess the field.

For while the tired waves, vainly breaking,
Seem here no painful inch to gain,

Far back, through creeks and inlets making,
Comes silent, flooding in, the main.

And not by eastern windows only,

When daylight comes, comes in the light,
In front, the sun climbs slow, how slowly,
But westward, look, the land is bright.

A. H. CLOUGH.

CCLXXXVII

A THANKSGIVING

WE thank Thee, O God of earth and heaven,
Source and essence of all we know,
Thou, who the power to man has given
Thy life to witness,-Thy life to show.
To us it is nothing to call Thee Father,

Mother, or Brother, or Bride, or Friend;
Manifold motions of Thee; or rather

The manifold rays in Thy love that blend.

Whether we see Thee as sole and single ;-
Whether as Three on Thy name we call,—
Many natures in all things mingle,

Why not Three, in the source of all?
Whether in form as of Son and Father,
A dual Being Thou seem'st to bear;
Or whether in nature we see Thee rather,
Worshipping Godhood everywhere.

Whether in shape as of outer being
Fitted for flesh Thy face to see;

Or whether unto us Thy spirit seeing,

Thy flesh and Thy bones have ceased to be;

We bless Thy goodness, that workest to free us,
In all these forms Thy spirit to know ;
What, alas! were we, should'st Thou only see us
In the shapes of our life which to men we show.

For the motions of life that make up being;
For being that blends them all in one ;
For thought and emotion-for feeling and seeing
In the warmth and the light of an inner sun;
For life, with its joys of gaining and giving,

For death, which is life in another dress ;-
Life, that is more than merely living,-
Death, that is more than life,—and less!

For joys whereby the warmth is given

That eases the strain of the Spirit's strife;
For sorrows, that are as the winds of heaven,
Bracing the nerves of the inner life;
For strife springing forth from the just reaction
Of forces moving the life within;

For peace, whereto by some subtle paction
Strife moveth ever, its way to win.

For Fate, which setteth a bound to being,
A limit to knowledge, a law to ill;

For faith, which is as the spirit of seeing, which is as the soul of will;

For love,