The Lord's Prayer. From Proverbial Philosophy

Inquirest thou, man, wherewithal may I come unto the Lord?
And with what wonder-working sounds may I move the majesty of heaven?
There is a model to thy hand; upon that do thou frame thy supplication;
Wisdom hath measured its words; and redemption urgeth thee to use them.
Call thy God thy Father, and yet not thine alone,
For thou art but one of many, thy brotherhood is with all:
Remember his high estate, that he dwelleth King of Heaven;
So shall thy thoughts be humbled, nor love be unmixed with reverence:
Be thy first petition unselfish, the honour of Him who made thee.
And that in the depths of thy heart his memory be shrined in holiness:
Pray for that blessed time, when good shall triumph over evil.
And one universal temple echo the perfections of Jehovah:
Bend thou to his good will, and subserve his holy purposes.
Till in thee, and those around thee, grow a little heaven upon earth:
Humbly, as a grateful almsman, beg thy bread of God,
Bread for thy triple estate, for thou hast a trinity of nature:
Humility smootheth the way, and gratitude softeneth the heart,
Be then thy prayer for pardon mingled with the tear of penitence;
Yea, and while, all unworthy, thou leanest on the hand that should smite,
Thou canst not from thy fellows withhold thy less forgiveness.
To thy Father thy weaknesses are known, and thou hast not hid thy sin,
Therefore ask him, in all trust, to lead thee from the dangers of temptation;
While the last petition of the soul, that breatheth on the confines of prayer.
Is deliverance from sin and the evil one, the miseries of earth and hell.
And wherefore, child of hope, should the rock of thy confidence be sure?
Thou knowest that God heareth, and promiseth an answer of peace;
Thou knowest that he is King, and none can stay his hand;
Thou knowest his power to he boundless, for there is none other:
And to Him thou givest glory, as a creature of his workmanship and favour.
For the never-ending term of thy saved and bright existence.



Transcribed from the 25th edition "Proverbial Philosophy by Martin Farquhar Tupper" by Mick Puttock, August 2011 (Spelling, punctuation and grammer left mostly unchanged from the 25th edition)

Martin Farquhar Tupper

Martin Farquhar Tupper was an English poet and writer best known for his work "Proverbial Philosophy." Born on July 17, 1810, in London, he was a contemporary of Alfred Tennyson and William Wordsworth. While his work enjoyed initial popularity, it later faced criticism for its didactic and moralizing tone. Apart from poetry, Tupper also wrote essays and novels. He passed away on November 29, 1889. Despite the fluctuating reception, he remains a notable figure in 19th-century English literature.

Martin Farquhar Tupper

Of Discretion. From Proverbial Philosophy

Martin Farquhar Tupper, Simple Poetry

Of Humility. From Proverbial Philosophy

Martin Farquhar Tupper, Simple Poetry

Of Truth In Things False. from Proverbial Philosophy

Martin Farquhar Tupper, Simple Poetry

Of Experience. From Proverbial Philosophy

Martin Farquhar Tupper, Simple Poetry

English

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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...

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Translations. - The Lord's Prayer, Briefly And Plainly Set Forth, And Turned Into Metre. (Luther's Song-Book.)

Our Father in the heaven who art,
Who tellest all of us, in heart
Brothers to be, and on thee call,
And wilt have prayer from us all--
Grant, not from mouth alone it flow;
From deepest heart oh let it go!

Hallowed be thy name, O Lord;
Amongst us oh keep pure thy word,
That we too may live holily,
And in thy true name worthily!
Defend us, Lord, from lying lore;
Thy poor misguided folk restore.

Thy kingdom come now here below!
And after there on ever go!
The Holy Ghost his temple hold
In us with graces manifold!
The devil's wrath and greatness strong
Crush, that he do thy church no wrong.

Thy will be done the same, Lord God,
On earth as in thy high abode!
In pain give patience for relief,
Obedience in love and grief;

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Of A Trinity. From Proverbial Philosophy

Despise not, shrewd reckoner, the God of a good man's worship,
Neither let thy calculating folly gainsay the unity of three:
Nor scorn another's creed, although he cannot solve thy doubts;
Reason is the follower of faith, where he may not be precursor:
It is written, and so we believe, waiting not for outward proof,
Inasmuch as mysteries inscrutable are the clear preroga-tives of godhead.
Reason hath nothing positive, faith hath nothing doubtful;
And the height of unbelieving wisdom is to question all things.
When there is marvel in a doctrine, faith is joyful and adoreth;
But when all is clear, what place is left for faith?
Tell me the sum of thy knowledge,  is it yet assured of anything?
Despise not what is wonderfill, when all things are wonderful around thee.
From the multit...

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The Universal Prayer.

("Ma fille, va prier!")

[XXXVII., June, 1830.]


I.

Come, child, to prayer; the busy day is done,
A golden star gleams through the dusk of night;
The hills are trembling in the rising mist,
The rumbling wain looms dim upon the sight;
All things wend home to rest; the roadside trees
Shake off their dust, stirred by the evening breeze.

The sparkling stars gush forth in sudden blaze,
As twilight open flings the doors of night;
The fringe of carmine narrows in the west,
The rippling waves are tipped with silver light;
The bush, the path - all blend in one dull gray;
The doubtful traveller gropes his anxious way.

Oh, day! with toil, with wrong, with hatred rife;
Oh, blessed night! with sober calmness sweet,
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Prefatory. to Proverbial Philosophy

    Thoughts, that have tarried in my mind, and peopled its inner chambers,
The sober children of reason, or desultory train of fancy;
Clear-running wine of conviction, with the scum and the lees of speculation;
Corn from the sheaves of science, with stubble from mine own garner:
Searchings after Truth, that have tracked her secret lodes.
And come up again to the surface-world, with a know-ledge grounded deeper;
Arguments of high scope, that have soared to the key-stone of heaven.
And thence have swooped to their certain mark, as the falcon to its quarry;
The fruits I have gathered of prudence, the ripened harvest of my musings.
These commend I unto thee, docile scholar of Wisdom,
These I give to thy gentle heart, thou lover of the right.
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The Lords Prayer

        "Audemus dicere Pater Noster."-CANON OF THE MASS.

                There is a bolder way,
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    All-human iteration day by day.
    Courage, mankind!    Restore Him what is His.

                Out of His mouth were given
    These phrases.    O replace them whence they came.
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                Our "trespasses," our "bread,"
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    The miracle-words that are and are not said,
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