Our humble prayer ascends; O Father! hear it.
Upsoaring on the wings of awe and meekness,
Forgive its weakness!

We see thy hand,--it leads us, it supports us;
We hear thy voice,--it counsels and it courts us;
And then we turn away; and still thy kindness
Forgives our blindness.

O, how long-suffering, Lord! but thou delightest
To win with love the wandering: thou invited,
By smiles of mercy, not by frowns or terrors,
Man from his errors.

Father and Saviour! plant within each bosom
The seeds of holiness, and bid them blossom
In fragrance and in beauty bright and vernal,
And spring eternal.

SIR JOHN BOWRING.

* * * * *

THE HIGHER GOOD.

Father, I will not ask for wealth or fame,
Though once they would have joyed my carnal sense:
I shudder not to bear a hated name,
Wanting all wealth, myself my sole defence.
But give me, Lord, eyes to behold the truth;
A seeing sense that knows the eternal right;
A heart with pity filled, and gentlest ruth;
A manly faith that makes all darkness light:
Give me the power to labor for mankind;
Make me the mouth of such as cannot speak;
Eyes let me be to groping men, and blind;
A conscience to the base; and to the weak
Let me be hands and feet; and to the foolish, mind;
And lead still further on such as thy kingdom seek.

THEODORE PARKER.

* * * * *

ASCRIPTION.

O thou who hast beneath Thy hand
The dark foundations of the land,--
The motion of whose ordered thought
An instant universe hath wrought,--

Who hast within Thine equal heed
The rolling sun, the ripening seed,
The azure of the speedwell's eye.
The vast solemnities of sky,--

Who hear'st no less the feeble note
Of one small bird's awakening throat,
Than that unnamed, tremendous chord
Arcturus sounds before his Lord,--

More sweet to Thee than all acclaim
Of storm and ocean, stars and flame,
In favor more before Thy face
Than pageantry of time and space.

The worship and the service be
Of him Thou madest most like Thee,--
Who in his nostrils hath Thy breath,
Whose spirit is the lord of death!

CHARLES G.D. ROBERTS.

* * * * *

O MASTER, LET ME WALK WITH THEE.

O Master, let me walk with thee
In lowly paths of service free;
Tell me thy secret; help me bear
The stra