ure will share,
But abide not the season of grief;
Who flies from the brow that is darkened by care,
And the silence that looks for relief.

Not the friend who, suspicious of change or of guile,
Would shrink from a confidence free;
Nor him who with fondness complacent can smile
On the eye that looks coldly on me.

As the mirror that, just to each blemish or grace,
To myself will my image reflect,
But to none but myself will that image retrace,
Nor picture one absent defect.

To my soul let my friend be a mirror as true,
Thus my faults from all others conceal;
Nor, absent, those failings or follies renew,
Which from Heaven and from man he should veil.]

[TO MARIA.]

[THE SUN.]

[THE VOICE OF TIME.]

[In Memory of MRS. WILLIAM RICHARDS.]

INVOCATION TO PRAYER.

Morning.

To prayer, to prayer; for the morning breaks,
And earth in her Maker's smile awakes.
His light is on all, below and above;
The light of gladness, and life, and love;
Oh, then, on the breath of this early air,
Send upward the incense of grateful prayer.

Evening.

To prayer; for the glorious sun is gone,
And the gathering darkness of night comes on:
Like a curtain, from God's kind hand it flows,
To shade the couch where his children repose;--
Then pray, while the watching stars are bright,
And give your last thoughts to the Guardian of night!

Sabbath.

To prayer; for the day that God has blest,
Comes tranquilly on with its welcome rest;
It speaks of creation's early bloom,
It speaks of the Prince who burst the tomb.
Then summon the spirit's exalted powers,
And devote to Heaven the hallowed hours!

[Henry Ware, "Seasons of Prayer" (first three stanzas):

To prayer, to prayer;--for the morning breaks,
And earth in her Maker's smile awakes.
His light is on all below and above,--
The light of gladness, and life, and love.
Oh, then, on the breath of this early air
Send upward the incense of grateful prayer.

To prayer;--for the glorious sun is gone,
And the gathering darkness of night comes on;
Like a curtain from God's kind hand it flows,
To shade the couch where his children impose.
Then kneel, while the watching stars are bright,
And give your last thoughts to the Guardian of night.