Let Us Pray

[note: A precious memory is associated with these words. The voice that uttered them is silent now but the solemnity of their utterance has not passed away. The [below] is a feeble attempt to give it something like permanency.]


Bow the head in supplication,
    Lowly, penitent, sincere,
Worthiest of adoration,
    God, the Holy One is here! -
Here, while through the open casement
    Gently beams the rising day,
While, in contrite self abasement,
    Rev'rently we kneel and pray!

Let us pray! - we're weak and weary,
    Faint of heart and slow of limb,
Over mountains dark and dreary
    Lies our pathway - narrow, dim,
Thorn beset and demon-haunted,
    Steep and slipp'ry is the way,
Would we tread it all undaunted,
    Firm of footstep? - let us pray!

Let us pray! - on every spirit,
    Secret, solemn records lie,
Of transgression and demerit,
    On'y seen by God's pure eye, -
Secret sins, desires unholy,
    Thoughts impure that once held sway, -
Oh, in penitence most lowly,
    Deeply contrite, let us pray!

Let us pray! - we need forgiveness, -
    Strength and patience to endure, -
For our arduous labors fitness, -
    Spirits consecrate and pure,
Shelter need when storms are round us, -
    Bread of Heavenly life each day, -
Help when hidden snares surround us, -
    Guidance always - let us pray!

Pamela S. Vining (J. C. Yule)

Pamela S. Vining, also known by her pseudonym J. C. Yule, was an English poet whose work was recognized in the 19th century. Despite her significant contribution to English poetry, detailed information about her life, including her birth and death dates, remains elusive. She remains a noteworthy figure in the canon of English literature for her emotive and thought-provoking poetry.

Pamela S. Vining (J. C. Yule)

By And By

Pamela S. Vining (J. C. Yule), Simple Poetry

The Voice Of Spring

Pamela S. Vining (J. C. Yule), Simple Poetry

I Will Not Let Thee Go.

Pamela S. Vining (J. C. Yule), Simple Poetry

Marguerite

Pamela S. Vining (J. C. Yule), Simple Poetry

English

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The Prayer-Seeker

Along the aisle where prayer was made,
A woman, all in black arrayed,
Close-veiled, between the kneeling host,
With gliding motion of a ghost,
Passed to the desk, and laid thereon
A scroll which bore these words alone,
Pray for me!

Back from the place of worshipping
She glided like a guilty thing
The rustle of her draperies, stirred
By hurrying feet, alone was heard;
While, full of awe, the preacher read,
As out into the dark she sped:
"Pray for me!"

Back to the night from whence she came,
To unimagined grief or shame!
Across the threshold of that door
None knew the burden that she bore;
Alone she left the written scroll,
The legend of a troubled soul,--
Pray for me!

Glide on, poor ghost of woe or sin!
Thou leav'...

John Greenleaf Whittier

Strike The Chords Softly

Strike the chords softly with tremulous fingers,
    While, on the threshold of happiest years,
For a brief moment fond memory lingers,
    Ere we go forth to life's conflicts and fears!

Strike the chords softly! - yet no, as we tarry,
    Swiftly the morning is gliding away;
Weary ones droop 'neath the burdens they carry,
    Toiling ones faint in the heat of the day.

Let us not linger! - Earth's millions are crying
    "Come to us, aid us, we grope in the night!
Come to us, aid us, we're perishing, dying -
    Give us, oh, give us, the heavenly Light!"

Let us not linger! - our brethren are calling, -
    "Aid us, the harvest increases each day; -
Some have grown weary, alas, of their toiling! -
    Others have passed from their labors away."

Pamela S. Vining (J. C. Yule)

Of Prayer. From Proverbial Philosophy

A WICKED man scorneth prayer, in the shallow sophistry of reason.
He derideth the silly hope that God can be moved by supplication: 
Can the unchangeable be changed, or waver in his purpose?
Can the weakness of pity affect him? Should he turn at the bidding of a man?
Methought lie ruled all things, and ye called his decrees immutable,
But if thus he listeneth to words, wherein is the firmness of his will? 
So I heard the speech of the wicked, and, lo, it was smoother than oil;
But I knew that his reasonings were false, for the promise of the Scripture is true:
Yet was my soul in darkness, for his words were too hard for me;
Till I turned to my God in prayer: for I know He heareth always.
Then I looked abroad on the earth, and, behold, the Lord was in all things;
Yet saw I not his ha...

Martin Farquhar Tupper

Exhortation To Prayer.

What various hindrances we meet
In coming to a mercy-seat!
Yet who that knows the worth of prayer,
But wishes to be often there?


Prayer makes the darkend cloud withdraw,
Prayer climbs the ladder Jacob saw,
Gives exercise to faith and love,
Brings every blessing from above.


Restraining prayer, we cease to fight,
Prayer makes the Christians armour bright;
And Satan trembles when he sees
The weakest saint upon his knees.


While Moses stood with arms spread wide,
Success was found on Israels side;
But when through weariness they faild,
That moment Amalek prevaild.^[1]


Have you no words? Ah! think again,
Words flow apace when you complain,
And fill your fellow-creatures ear
With the sad t...

William Cowper

A Parting Hymn.

Father in Heaven, to thee,
    Guardian and friend,
Lowly the suppliant knee
    Here would we bend! -
Blessing thee ere we part,
Each with a grateful heart,
    For all thy love doth send -
Plenteous and free!

Thanks for thy hand outspread
    Ever in power
O'er each defenceless head
    In danger's hour!
Thanks for the light arid love,
From thy full fount above -
    A rich and constant shower,
O'er us still shed!

Go thou with us, we pray,
    Whom duties call
To our high tasks away,
    Each one, and all, -
Go, with thy Spirit's might,
Go, with thy Gospel's light
    - Whatever may befall -
With us alway

Now let thy blessing rest
    On us anew -
Brother, and friend, and guest,
    Tri...

Pamela S. Vining (J. C. Yule)

Under The Rod

"Be Still, and know that I am God!"


Be silent, Soul! - though dark thy path and dreary,
    And wild with storm, yet what is that to thee?
Though thou art faint, and desolate, and weary,
    Thy God hath willed thus, - so let it be!
Murmurs the mountain oak when storms assail it,
    And warring tempests wildly shake its form?
Firmer within the earth its root it striketh,
    And gathers strength and vigor from the storm.

Be silent, Soul! - the hand of God is on thee!
    And, as a skillful gard'ner, from the vine
Doth lop away each worthless branch and barren,
    So He would lop each fruitless bough of thine.
Ah! thou art earth-bound, prone, and lowly creeping,
    clinging to things too frail to be thy stay;
Jesus, with watchful care His vineya...

Pamela S. Vining (J. C. Yule)