Prayer for Submission.

    How often, Lord, when 'tis Thy will
        To use the chastening rod,
    My soul, possessed of passions ill,
        Rebels against its God!
    Denies that Justice reigns in heaven,
        Doth His decrees pervade;
    And loathes the blessings He hath given,
        The creatures He hath made!

    Do thou the spirit me instil
        Of sweet submission, Lord,
    And teach me to Thy sovereign will
        In meekness to accord;
    Like Him who felt affliction's fire,
        But never did repine;
    And bore the cross at Thy desire,
        When harder far than mine.

    Enough, it is my King's command!
        What more do I require?
    Yet what is from a father's hand
        Can but to good conspire.
    And all Thy workings are inwove
        In Thine eternal plan,
    Which wills the welfare in Thy love,
        And works the weal of man.

W. M. MacKeracher

W. M. MacKeracher was a poet known for his contributions to Canadian literature during the early 20th century. His works often focused on themes of nature, human emotion, and the simplicity of rural life. Though not as widely known as some of his contemporaries, MacKeracher's poetry has been appreciated for its lyrical quality and depth. Much of his work was published in regional journals and anthologies, capturing the essence of Canadian landscapes and the human experience within them. His exact birth and death dates remain obscure.

W. M. MacKeracher

Reflections of a Jacobite.

W. M. MacKeracher, Simple Poetry

Sonnet to Dr. Macvicar.

W. M. MacKeracher, Simple Poetry

War-Ships In Port.

W. M. MacKeracher, Simple Poetry

Know'st Thou The Land?

W. M. MacKeracher, Simple Poetry

English

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Submission.

O Lord, my best desire fulfil,
And help me to resign
Life, health, and comfort to thy will,
And make thy pleasure mine.


Why should I shrink at thy command,
Whose love forbids my fears?
Or tremble at the gracious hand
That wipes away my tears?


No, let me rather freely yield
What most I prize to thee;
Who never hast a good withheld,
Or wilt withhold, from me.


Thy favour, all my journey through,
Thou art engaged to grant;
What else I want, or think I do,
Tis better still to want.


Wisdom and mercy guide my way,
Shall I resist them both?
A poor blind creature of a day,
And crushd before the moth!


But ah! my inward spirit cries,
Still bind me to thy sway;
Else the next cloud ...

William Cowper

Supplication

For He knoweth our frame, He remembereth that we are dust. - PSALM CIII. 14.


    Oh Lord, when all our bones are thrust
        Beyond the gaze of all but Thine;
    And these blaspheming tongues are dust
        Which babbled of Thy name divine,
    How helpless then to carp or rail
        Against the canons of Thy word;
    Wilt Thou, when thus our spirits fail,
    Have mercy, Lord?

    Here from this ebon speck that floats
        As but a mote within Thine eye,
    Vain sneers and curses from our throats
        Rise to the vault of Thy fair sky:
    Yet when this world of ours is still
        Of this all-wondering, tortured horde,
    And none is left for Thee to kill -
    Have mercy, Lord!

    Thou knowest that our...

Edgar Lee Masters

The Prayer of the Penitent Profligate.

Lord, I am weak and worthless, better fit
To grovel in the dust, a worm of earth,
Than wear Thy holy image, which I do
But daily with defilement desecrate.
Long-suffering God! in mercy infinite!
That thou did'st not long since have cut me off,
But still dost keep me in the place of hope!
Weak, worthless, wicked is this heart of mine,
But Thou, O Lord, art all in all to me,
For Thou art strong, Thy power is supreme,
The God of might, from Thee all strength is sprung;
And Thou hast vanquished man's great Enemy,
And by Thy strength I too may vanquish him,
And thus be worthy, washed from sin, to wear
The holy image of my Maker, God.
Then Lord, O Lord, give unto me Thy strength;
I know Thou wilt, for Thou hast promised it:
Omnipotent, Thy name; and love, Thine...

W. M. MacKeracher

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

To God.

Make, make me Thine, my gracious God,
Or with Thy staff, or with Thy rod;
And be the blow, too, what it will,
Lord, I will kiss it, though it kill:
Beat me, bruise me, rack me, rend me,
Yet, in torments, I'll commend Thee;
Examine me with fire, and prove me
To the full, yet I will love Thee;
Nor shall Thou give so deep a wound
But I as patient will be found.

Robert Herrick

The Prayer of the South

My brow is bent beneath a heavy rod!
My face is wan and white with many woes!
But I will lift my poor chained hands to God,
And for my children pray, and for my foes.
Beside the graves where thousands lowly lie
I kneel, and weeping for each slaughtered son,
I turn my gaze to my own sunny sky,
And pray, O Father, let Thy will be done!

My heart is filled with anguish, deep and vast!
My hopes are buried with my children's dust!
My joys have fled, my tears are flowing fast!
In whom, save Thee, our Father, shall I trust?
Ah! I forgot Thee, Father, long and oft,
When I was happy, rich, and proud, and free;
But conquered now, and crushed, I look aloft,
And sorrow leads me, Father, back to Thee.

Amid the wrecks that mark the foeman's path
I kneel, and...

Abram Joseph Ryan