The Slave, and Other Poetical Pieces Being an Appendix to Poems by The Rev. Richard Mant |
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A FATHER'S PRAYER. |
 | The Slave, and Other Poetical Pieces |  |
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A FATHER'S PRAYER.
But why, alas! do mortal men in vain
Of fortune, fate, or Providence complain?
God gives us what he knows our wants require,
And better things than those which we desire:
Some pray for riches; riches they obtain;
But watch'd by robbers, for their wealth are slain;
Such dear-brought blessings happen every day,
Because we know not for what things to pray.
Chaucer's Knight's Tale, by Dryden.
Of fortune, fate, or Providence complain?
God gives us what he knows our wants require,
And better things than those which we desire:
Some pray for riches; riches they obtain;
But watch'd by robbers, for their wealth are slain;
Such dear-brought blessings happen every day,
Because we know not for what things to pray.
Chaucer's Knight's Tale, by Dryden.
While to my God with spirit meek
I call, on bended knee;
What blessings shall thy Father seek,
My Agatha, for thee?
Be thine the good He wills to grant,
He, who inthron'd on high
Is wise to know whate'er we want,
And pow'rful to supply.
I call, on bended knee;
What blessings shall thy Father seek,
My Agatha, for thee?
Be thine the good He wills to grant,
He, who inthron'd on high
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And pow'rful to supply.
I will not pray, dear babe, for thee
To prove or rich or fair,
Nor tempt my God for what may be
No blessing, but a snare.
But, O! a frame be thine, with health,
The truest beauty, blest!
And, O! be thine, the truest wealth,
A wise contented breast!
To prove or rich or fair,
Nor tempt my God for what may be
No blessing, but a snare.
But, O! a frame be thine, with health,
The truest beauty, blest!
And, O! be thine, the truest wealth,
A wise contented breast!
Be thine another's grief to feel,
Another's joy to share!
Be thine the grateful hymn in weal,
In woe the faithful pray'r!
Thy own defects be thine to know,
To trust thy Saviour's love,
In peace to sojourn here below,
But set thine heart above!
Another's joy to share!
Be thine the grateful hymn in weal,
In woe the faithful pray'r!
Thy own defects be thine to know,
To trust thy Saviour's love,
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But set thine heart above!
Such blessings through his precious blood,
Who died mankind to save,
Such blessings of th' all-bounteous God
For thee, dear babe, I crave.
And, if aright my suit I plead,
O, may thy parents see
Thus, thus their anxious cares repaid,
My Agatha, in thee.
Who died mankind to save,
Such blessings of th' all-bounteous God
For thee, dear babe, I crave.
And, if aright my suit I plead,
O, may thy parents see
Thus, thus their anxious cares repaid,
My Agatha, in thee.
| The Slave, and Other Poetical Pieces | |