Contents -BIBLIOGRAPHIC RECORD

Samuel Kettell, ed. Specimens of American Poetry. 1829.

By Seasons of Prayer

Henry Ware, Jr. (1794–1843)

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 repose.

Then kneel, while the watching stars are bright,

And give your last thoughts to the Guardian of night.

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 hallow’d hours.

There are smiles and tears in the mother’s eyes,

For her new-born infant beside her lies.

Oh hour of bliss! when the heart o’erflows

With rapture a mother only knows.

Let it gush forth in words of fervent prayer;

Let it swell up to heaven for her precious care.

There are smiles and tears in that gathering band,

Where the heart is pledged with the trembling hand.

What trying thoughts in her bosom swell,

As the bride bids parents and home farewell!

Kneel down by the side of the tearful fair,

And strengthen the perilous hour with prayer.

Kneel down by the dying sinner’s side,

And pray for his soul through him who died.

Large drops of anguish are thick on his brow;

Oh what is earth and its pleasures now?

And what shall assuage his dark despair,

But the penitent cry of humble prayer?

Kneel down at the couch of departing faith,

And hear the last words the believer saith.

He has bidden adieu to his earthly friends;

There is peace in his eye that upwards bends;

There is peace in his calm confiding air;

For his last thoughts are God’s, his last words prayer.

The voice of prayer at the sable bier!

A voice to sustain, to soothe, and to cheer.

It commends the spirit to God who gave;

It lifts the thoughts from the cold dark grave;

It points to the glory where he shall reign,

Who whisper’d, “Thy brother shall rise again.”

The voice of prayer in the world of bliss!

But gladder, purer, than rose from this.

The ransom’d shout to their glorious King,

Where no sorrow shades the soul as they sing;

But a sinless and joyous song they raise;

And their voice of prayer is eternal praise.

Awake, awake, and gird up thy strength

To join that holy band at length.

To Him, who unceasing love displays,

Whom the powers of nature unceasingly praise,

To Him thy heart and thy hours be given;

For a life of prayer is the life of heaven.