I loved the garish day, and spite of fears
Pride ruled my will…
O’er moor and fen, o’er crag and torrent, till
The night is gone.

-The Pillar of the Cloud, John Henry Newman

Whate’er I do, where’er I be
Still ’tis God’s hand that leadeth me.
Sometimes ‘mid scenes of deepest gloom,
Sometimes where Eden’s bowers bloom,
By water calm, o’er troubled sea
Still ’tis God’s hand that leadeth me.

–He Leadeth Me, Joseph H. Gilmore

My fainting soul doth yearn
For thy green hills afar;
So let they mercy burn–
My greater, guiding star!

–A Hymn, Paul Lawrence Dunbar

Not so in haste, my heart!
Have faith in God and wait;
Although he linger long,
He never comes too late.

He never cometh late;
He knoweth what is best;
Vex not thyself in vain;
Until He cometh, rest.

Until He cometh, rest,
Nor grudge the hours that roll
The feet that wait for God
Are soonest at the goal;

Are soonest at the goal
That is not gained by speed;
Then hold Thee still, my heart,
For I shall wait His lead.

–Not so in Haste, My Heart, Bradford Torrey

I do not ask that flowers should always spring
Beneath my feet;
I know too well the poison and the sting
Of things too Sweet…

–Per Pacem Ad Lucem, Adelaide A. Proctor

If I can do some good today,
If I can serve along live’s way,
If I can something helpful say,
Lord, show me how.

If I can right a human wrong,
If I can help to make one strong,
If I can cheer with smile or song,
Lord, show me how.

If I can aid one in distress,
If I can make one burden less,
If I can spread more happiness,
Lord, show me how.

–My Daily Prayer, Grenville Klieser

Times without number have I pray’d,
“This only once forgive”,
Relapsing, when Thy hand was stay’d
And suffer’d me to live:–

Yet know the kingdom of Thy peace,
Lord, to my heart restore:
Forgive my vain repentances,
And bid me sin no more.

–Times Without Number Have I Pray’d, Charles Wesley

Hear me, O God!
A broken heart
Is my best part…

–A Hymn of God the Father, Ben Johnson

The World is too much with us, late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers…
We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!
The Sea that bares her bosom to the moon,
The winds that will be howling at all hours,
And are up-gather’d now like sleeping flowers;
For this, for every thing, we are out of tune;
It moves us not…

–The World is too Much With Us, William Wordsworth

Night comes again, to bring us rest,
So give us, Lord, thy peace,
To wearied bodies boon of sleep,
To troubl’d hearts release.

Forgive us, Lord, for hasty word
For spirits vex’d and toss’d
For anxious care, for heedless haste
And precious moments lost.

Forgive our want of faith in men,
Our mean ingratitude
Our selfishness and careless ease,
Our falseness to the good.

Lord, give us rest, and be to all
Who work or watch tonight
Companion of the darkened hours
And herald of the light.

–Prayer at Eventide, R.B.Y. Scott

O Thou, who lovest not alone
The swift success, the instant goal,
But, hast a lenient eye to mark
The failures of the the inconstant soul,

Consider not my little worth–
The mean achievement, scamped act–
The high resolve and low result,
The dream that durst not face the fact.

But count the reach of my desire–
Let this be something in thy sight:
I have not, in the slothful dark
Forgot the vision and the height.

Neither my body nor my soul
To earth’s low ease will yield consent.
I praise thee for the will to strive:
I bless the goad and discontent.

–The Aim, Charles G.D. Roberts