Speak, and by thy gracious voice
Make my drooping soul rejoice;
O, beloved Saviour, haste,
Tell me all the storms are past!
On thy garden deign to smile;
Raise the plants, enrich the soil;
Soon thy presence will restore
Life to what seemed dead before.
John Newton, Prayer for Spring.
Now, now that the sun hath veil’d his light
And bid the world goodnight;
To the soft bed my body I dispose,
But where shall my soul repose?
Dear, dear God, even in Thy arms,
And can there be any so sweet security!
Then to thy rest, O my soul!
And singing, praise the mercy
That prolongs thy days.
henry purcell, an evening hymn
Thou hidden Life of faithful souls- Thou Light
Of that mysterious inner world of thought,
Oh give us grace to follow Thee aright,
From cross and toil and sorrow shrinking not;
Content to be but little known,
Content to wander on alone;
Here- hidden inwardly in Thee;
There- Light in thine own Light to be.
from THY HIDDEN ONES by C. F. Richter, 1711. Translated Emma Frances Bevan, 1899.
All things bright and beautiful,
All creatures great and small,
All things wise and wonderful,
The Lord God made them all.
Each little flower that opens,
Each little bird that sings,
He made their glowing colours,
He made their tiny wings.
by Cecil Frances Alexander, “Maker of Heaven and Earth.”
Mannerly-hearted! more than handsome face—
Beauty’s bearing or muse of mounting vein,
All, in this case, bathed in high hallowing grace . . .
by gerard manley hopkins; The Handsome Heart
Be still, my soul: the Lord is on thy side.
Bear patiently the cross of grief or pain.
Leave to thy God to order and provide;
In every change, He faithful will remain.
by Katharina von Schlegel, 1752; translated by Jane Borthwick 1855
Past the stony-throated caves,
Strangled by the wash of waves,
Past the splintered crags, I sank
On a green and flowery bank,—
Soft as fall of thistle-down,
Lightly as a cloud is blown,
Soothingly as childhood pressed
To the bosom of its rest.
from My Dream, 1855, John Greenleaf Whittier
Hold Thou Thy cross before my closing eyes;
Shine through the gloom and point me to the skies;
Heav’n’s morning breaks, and earth’s vain shadows flee;
In life, in death, O Lord, abide with me.
from Abide with Me; Henry F. Lyte, 1847