Poems (Henderson)/Prayer
For works with similar titles, see Prayer.
PRAYER.
"Oh! I am so tired of life,"
A weary mother said,
As on her tear-wet pillow,
She laid her aching head.
Three little ones to feed and clothe,
To earn their daily bread,
To hear the nightly echo,
Of the drunken father's tread.
A weary mother said,
As on her tear-wet pillow,
She laid her aching head.
Three little ones to feed and clothe,
To earn their daily bread,
To hear the nightly echo,
Of the drunken father's tread.
There came a day in Winter,
The frost was on the pane,
The drifted snow lay heavily,
O'er meadow, stile, and lane,
Within her cheerless home the mother,
Listened with a heart of pain,
To the little voices crying,
Faint with hunger, chilled and cold,
Oh! the half of human sorrow,
Ne'er was written, sung, or told.
The frost was on the pane,
The drifted snow lay heavily,
O'er meadow, stile, and lane,
Within her cheerless home the mother,
Listened with a heart of pain,
To the little voices crying,
Faint with hunger, chilled and cold,
Oh! the half of human sorrow,
Ne'er was written, sung, or told.
Down upon the cheerless floor,
The anguished mother bends the knee.
"Father, to thy care commending,
These, the little children three,
Thou who knowest every heart-throb,
That thy suffering children feel,
Thou whose care that never faileth,
Guideth e'en the sparrow's fall."
The anguished mother bends the knee.
"Father, to thy care commending,
These, the little children three,
Thou who knowest every heart-throb,
That thy suffering children feel,
Thou whose care that never faileth,
Guideth e'en the sparrow's fall."
"Send thy blessing, loving Savior,
Down upon this heart so weak,
Shield me from the dire temptation,
That daily, hourly, I must meet.
Ever resting in thy strength,
Trusting in thy wise command,
For I know thou holdest ever,
In the hollow of thy hand,
Thy children, Father let the sunlight,
Of thy glory pierce the night."
Down upon this heart so weak,
Shield me from the dire temptation,
That daily, hourly, I must meet.
Ever resting in thy strength,
Trusting in thy wise command,
For I know thou holdest ever,
In the hollow of thy hand,
Thy children, Father let the sunlight,
Of thy glory pierce the night."
******
Round the cheerful fire are gathered,
The mother, and her manly boys,
Are the dreary past forgotten,
In the present's heartfelt joys.
In his silent grave the father,
Sleeps the sleep of dreamless rest,
But her's the hand that drew him upward,
From the rum-fiend's iron grasp.
Hers the heart that true and faithful,
Woke him to great Truth at last,
Died he in a noble manhood,
With his hand in hers locked fast.
The mother, and her manly boys,
Are the dreary past forgotten,
In the present's heartfelt joys.
In his silent grave the father,
Sleeps the sleep of dreamless rest,
But her's the hand that drew him upward,
From the rum-fiend's iron grasp.
Hers the heart that true and faithful,
Woke him to great Truth at last,
Died he in a noble manhood,
With his hand in hers locked fast.
Science with its legion doctrines,
Atheists with their creeds of hell,
Seek to break the old-time faith,
That our stern forefathers held.
Atheists with their creeds of hell,
Seek to break the old-time faith,
That our stern forefathers held.
But that God who kept the Hebrew
Children from the wrath of flame,
That God who fed his faithful servant,
Prophet great of ancient fame,
By the ravens, He, who Daniel,
Saved from the devowing jaws,
Of the lion, lives as truly,
Now to answer anguished prayer.
Children from the wrath of flame,
That God who fed his faithful servant,
Prophet great of ancient fame,
By the ravens, He, who Daniel,
Saved from the devowing jaws,
Of the lion, lives as truly,
Now to answer anguished prayer.
That Great Hand that sweetly folded,
To His heart the little ones,
He who to ransom sinners knew,
The sepulchre's dismal gloom.
He who pierced with many thorns,
Bore the agonies of Death,
Knoweth every heart's affliction,
Answereth every prayer of faith.
To His heart the little ones,
He who to ransom sinners knew,
The sepulchre's dismal gloom.
He who pierced with many thorns,
Bore the agonies of Death,
Knoweth every heart's affliction,
Answereth every prayer of faith.