The Book of Praise.

PART THE SECOND.

"LORD, TEACH US TO PRAY."

(Luke xi. 1.)

CLXIX.

Prayer is the soul's sincere desire,
Utter'd, or unexpress'd;

The motion of a hidden fire

That trembles in the breast.

Prayer is the burthen of a sigh,
The falling of a tear,

The upward glancing of the eye,
When none but God is near.

Prayer is the simplest form of speech

That infant lips can try;

Prayer the sublimest strains that reach

The Majesty on high.

Prayer is the contrite sinner's voice

Returning from his ways,
While angels in their songs rejoice,
And cry, Behold, he prays!

Prayer is the Christian's vital breath,
The Christian's native air;

His watchword at the gates of death;
He enters Heaven with prayer.

The saints, in prayer, appear as one
In word, and deed, and mind;
While with the Father and the Son
Sweet fellowship they find.

Nor prayer is made by man alone :
The Holy Spirit pleads;

And Jesus, on the eternal Throne,
For mourners intercedes.

O Thou, by Whom we come to God!
The Life, the Truth, the Way!

The path of prayer Thyself hast trod:
Lord! teach us how to pray!

James Montgomery. 1819.

I.

"OUR FATHER, WHICH ART IN HEAVEN ; HALLOWED BE THY NAME."

CLXX.

PSALM LXIII.

O God, Thou art my God alone;
Early to Thee my soul shall cry;

A pilgrim in a land unknown,

A thirsty land whose springs are dry.

Oh! that it were as it hath been!

When, praying in the holy place, Thy power and glory I have seen,

And marked the footsteps of Thy grace!

Yet, through this rough and thorny maze,
I follow hard on Thee, my God:
Thine hand unseen upholds my ways;
I safely tread where Thou hast trod.

Thee, in the watches of the night,
When I remember on my bed,
Thy Presence makes the darkness light,
Thy guardian wings are round my head.

Better than life itself Thy love,
Dearer than all beside to me :

For whom have I in Heaven above,
Or what on earth compared to Thee?

Praise with my heart, my mind, my voice,
For all Thy mercy I will give ;

My soul shall still in God rejoice;
My tongue shall bless Thee while I live.
James Montgomery. 1822.

CLXXI.

PSALM CXLV.

My God, my King, Thy various praise
Shall fill the remnant of my days;
Thy grace employ my humble tongue,
Till death and glory raise the song.

The wings of every hour shall bear
Some thankful tribute to Thine ear,
And every setting sun shall see
New works of duty done for Thee.
Thy truth and justice I'll proclaim;
Thy bounty flows, an endless stream;
Thy mercy swift, Thine anger slow,
But dreadful to the stubborn foe.

But who can speak Thy wondrous deeds?
Thy greatness all our thoughts exceeds;
Vast and unsearchable Thy ways,

Vast and immortal be Thy praise!

Isaac Watts. 1719.

CLXXII.

PSALM CXXXIX.

Lord, Thou hast form'd mine every part,
Mine inmost thought is known to Thee;
Each word, each feeling of my heart,

Thine ear doth hear, Thine eye can see.
Though I should seek the shades of night,
And hide myself in guilty fear,
To Thee the darkness seems as light,
The midnight as the noonday clear.
The heavens, the earth, the sea, the sky,
All own Thee ever present there ;
Where'er I turn, Thou still art nigh,
Thy Spirit dwelling everywhere.

Oh may that Spirit, ever blest,
Upon my soul in radiance shine,
Till, welcomed to eternal rest,

I taste Thy Presence, Lord Divine !

Robert Allan Scott. 1839.