From the German of GERHARD TERSTEEGEN.
Translation of JOHN WESLEY.
* * * * *
IN A LECTURE-ROOM.
Away, haunt thou not me,
Thou vain Philosophy!
Little hast thou bestead,
Save to perplex the head,
And leave the spirit dead.
Unto thy broken cisterns wherefore go.
While from the secret treasure-depths below,
Fed by the skyey shower,
And clouds that sink and rest on hill-tops high,
Wisdom at once, and Power,
Are welling, bubbling forth, unseen, incessantly?
Why labor at the dull mechanic oar,
When the fresh breeze is blowing,
And the strong current flowing,
Right onward to the Eternal Shore?
ARTHUR HUGH CLOUGH.
* * * * *
FROM THE RECESSES OF A LOWLY SPIRIT.
From the recesses of a lowly spirit,
Our humble prayer ascends; O Father! hear it.
Upsoaring on the wings of awe and meekness,
Forgive its weakness!
We see thy hand,--it leads us, it supports us;
We hear thy voice,--it counsels and it courts us;
And then we turn away; and still thy kindness
Forgives our blindness.
O, how long-suffering, Lord! but thou delightest
To win with love the wandering: thou invited,
By smiles of mercy, not by frowns or terrors,
Man from his errors.
Father and Saviour! plant within each bosom
The seeds of holiness, and bid them blossom
In fragrance and in beauty bright and vernal,
And spring eternal.
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