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WHERE ARE THE PRAYERS.
Where are the prayers we prayed on yesterday,
Or is it, Lord, the prayers we only said,
That traveled not the length to heaven's highway,
But mist-like rose no higher than our head?
Or is it, Lord, the prayers we only said,
That traveled not the length to heaven's highway,
But mist-like rose no higher than our head?
Where are the pleas, from burdened hearts sore rent,
The earnest petition of the penitent,
Were they the hearts profound and earnest pleas,
Such as thou hearest when on bended knees,
We weak and faint, sick, weary, and alone,
Whisper, O Father, in a softened tone.
The earnest petition of the penitent,
Were they the hearts profound and earnest pleas,
Such as thou hearest when on bended knees,
We weak and faint, sick, weary, and alone,
Whisper, O Father, in a softened tone.
Were they in substance careless yet and cold,
And not the craving of a spirit bold,
We stand and wonder what the cause can be,
Thou dost not grant the favor asked of thee.
And not the craving of a spirit bold,
We stand and wonder what the cause can be,
Thou dost not grant the favor asked of thee.
If we pray our prayer to thee,
Thine answer never tarries,
Often we but say our prayer,
The answer then miscarries.
Thine answer never tarries,
Often we but say our prayer,
The answer then miscarries.
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