Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, PRAYER, by ELIZA COOK


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

PRAYER, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: How purely true, how deeply warm
Last Line: The offering of fervent prayer.
Subject(s): Prayer


How purely true, how deeply warm
The inly-breathed appeal may be,
Though adoration wears no form,
In upraised hand or bended knee.
One Spirit fills all boundless space,
No limit to the when or where;
And little recks the time or place
That leads the soul to praise and prayer.

Father above, Almighty one,
Creator, is that worship vain
That hails each mountain as they throne,
And finds a universal fane?
When shining stars, or spangled sod,
Call forth devotion, who shall dare
To blame, or tell me that a GOD
Will never deign to hear such prayer?

Oh, prayer is good when many pour
Their voices in one solemn tone;
Conning their sacred lessons o'er,
Or yielding thanks for mercies shown.
'Tis good to see the quiet train
Forget their worldly joy and care,
While loud response and choral strain
Re-echo in the house of prayer.

But often have I stood to mark
The setting sun and closing flower;
When silence and the gathering dark
Shed holy calmness o'er the hour.
Lone on the hills, my soul confessed
More rapt and burning homage there,
And served the maker it addressed
With stronger zeal and closer prayer.

When watching those we love and prize,
Till all of life and hope be fled;
When we have gazed on sightless eyes,
And gently stayed the falling head;
Then what can soothe the stricken heart,
What solace overcome despair;
What earthly breathing can impart
Such healing balm as lonely prayer?

When fears and perils thicken fast,
And many dangers gather round
When human aid is vain and past,
No mortal refuge to be found;
Then can we firmly lean on heaven,
And gather strength to meet and bear;
No matter where the storm has driven,
A saving anchor lives in prayer.

Oh, God! how beautiful the thought,
How merciful the blessed decree,
That grace can e'er be found when sought,
And naught shut out the soul from Thee.
The cell may cramp, the fetters gall,
The flame may scorch, the rack may tear;
But torture-stake, or prison-wall,
Can be endured with faith and prayer.

In desert wilds, in midnight gloom;
In grateful joy, in trying pain;
In laughing youth, or nigh the tomb;
Oh when is prayer unheard or vain?
The Infinite, the King of kings,
Will never heed the when or where;
He'll ne'er reject a heart that brings
The offering of fervent prayer.





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