148

A PRAYER

IMITATED FROM THE PERSIAN

Lord! who art merciful as well as just,
Incline Thine ear to me, a child of dust!
Not what I would, O Lord, I offer Thee,
Alas! but what I can.

Father Almighty, who has made me man,
And bade me look to Heaven, for Thou art there,
Accept my sacrifice and humble prayer.

Four things which are not in Thy treasury,
I lay before Thee, Lord, with this petition:
My nothingness, my wants,

My sins, and my contrition.

ROBERT SOUTHEY

149

GOD IS GOOD

God, Thou art good! each perfumed flower,
The waving field, the dark green wood,

The insect fluttering for an hour,—
All things proclaim that God is good.

I hear it in each breath of wind;

The hills that have for ages stood,
And clouds with gold and silver lined,
All still repeat that God is good.

Each little rill that many a year

Has the same verdant path pursued, And every bird, in accents clear,

Joins in the song that God is good.

The restless sea, with haughty roar,
Calms each wild wave and billow rude,
Retreats submissive from the shore,

And swells the chorus,-" God is good."

The countless hosts of twinkling stars
All sing His praise with light renewed;
The rising sun each day declares
In rays of glory,—“ God is good."

The moon that walks in brightness says
That God is good! and man, endued
With power to speak his Maker's praise,
Should still repeat that God is good.

MRS. FOLLEN

150

THE GOODNESS OF GOD

Yes, God is good: in earth and sky,
From ocean-depths and spreading wood,

Ten thousand voices seem to cry,
"God made us all and God is good."

The sun that keeps his trackless way,
And downward pours his golden flood,
Night's sparkling hosts, all seem to say,
In accents clear, that God is good.

The merry birds prolong the strain,

Their song with every spring renew'd; And balmy air and falling rain,

Each softly whispers, "God is good."

I hear it in the rushing breeze;
The hills that have for ages stood,
The echoing sky, and roaring seas,
All swell the chorus, "God is good."

Yes, God is good, all Nature says,

By God's own hand with speech endued; And man, in louder notes of praise, Should sing for joy that "God is good."

JOHN HAMPDEN GURNEY

151

THEY TELL ME

They tell me, "Give thy nation up;
The ancient graves resign!
Give us thy soul-then plenty, wealth,
And greatness shall be thine."

They tell me: "Think not to rebuild
The City, proud and tall,

Of whose old splendor there is left
Only a crumbling wall.

66

Dream not thy nation to arouse

Out of its slumber deep;

Behold, it has so many years

Lain in a marmot's sleep!"

False prophets, hush! Fie, charlatans!
I swerve not from the goal.
I will not give my honor up,-
I will not sell my soul.

The path my fathers trod through life
I follow, straight and clear;

Should Death demand me, I will mount
The scaffold without fear.

My God, my race, I will not change
For gold or jewels' fires.

More than a stranger's treasure-house

A grave among my sires.

EZEKIEL LEAVITT

Translation from the Hebrew by Alice Stone Blackwell

152

HEBREW CRADLE SONG

Night has on the earth descended,

All around is silence deep.

Sleep, my darling, I am with thee;

Sleep a calm and peaceful sleep.

I no lullabies shall sing thee;
Songs are at an end to-night;

Sleep in peace, oh, sleep on sweetly,
Long as sleep thou canst, my light.
In our native fields aforetime,

Wondrous songs we used to sing,
Improvising them in gardens

Turning green with early spring.

Where grew daffodils and myrtles, Stately palms upreared their heights, Cypress trees spread wide their branches, Splendid roses blossomed bright.

But those notes are hushed and silenced;
Ruined now our Zion lies;

Mourning sounds instead of singing;
Yea, for songs we hear but sighs.

All thou needs must know, my darling,
Of thy nation's piteous plight,
Thou wilt learn and weep for sorrow,
As thy mother weeps to-night.

But why now in vain disturb thee?
Let thy tranquil slumber last,
Until over thee, my dearest,

The dark day of rain hath passed!

To the school, my son, I'll lead thee
By the hand; there thou shalt learn
All our Bible and our knowledge.
Wondrous pearls thou wilt discern-