so on earth to be;
But if for any wish thou darest not pray,
Then pray to God to cast that wish away.

--Hartley Coleridge.

SOMETIME, SOMEWHERE

Unanswered yet the prayer your lips have pleaded
In agony of heart these many years?
Does faith begin to fail? Is hope departing?
And think you all in vain those falling tears?
Say not the Father hath not heard your prayer;
You shall have your desire sometime, somewhere.

Unanswered yet?--though when you first presented
This one petition at the Father's throne
It seemed you could not wait the time of asking,
So urgent was your heart to make it known!
Though years have passed since then, do not despair;
The Lord will answer you sometime, somewhere.

Unanswered yet? Nay, do not say ungranted;
Perhaps your work is not yet wholly done.
The work began when first your prayer was uttered,
And God will finish what he has begun.
If you will keep the incense burning there
His glory you shall see sometime, somewhere.

Unanswered yet? Faith cannot be unanswered,
Her feet were firmly planted on the Rock;
Amid the wildest storms she stands undaunted,
Nor quails before the loudest thunder shock.
She knows Omnipotence has heard her prayer,
And cries, "It shall be done"--sometime, somewhere.

--Miss Ophelia G. Browning.

SECRET PRAYER

Lord, I have shut my door--
Shut out life's busy cares and fretting noise,
Here in this silence they intrude no more.
Speak thou, and heavenly joys
Shall fill my heart with music sweet and calm--
A holy psalm.

Yes, I have shut my door,
Even on all the beauty of thine earth--
To its blue ceiling, from its emerald floor,
Filled with spring's bloom and mirth;
From these, thy works, I turn; thyself I seek;
To thee I speak.

And I have shut my door
On earthly passion--all its yearning love,
Its tender friendships, all the priceless store
Of human ties. Above
All these my heart aspires, O Heart divine!
Stoop thou to mine.

Lord, I have shut my door!
Come thou and visit me: I am alone!
Come as when doors were shut thou cam'st of yore
And visited thine own.
My Lord, I kneel with reverence, love, and fear,
For thou art here.

--Mary Ellen Atkinson.

WHAT MAN IS THERE OF YOU?

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