And when the stars come forth-- When to the trusting heart sweet hopes are given And the deep stillness of the hour gives birth To pure bright dreams of heaven-- Kneel to thy God; ask strength life's ills to bear: Night is the time for prayer.
When is the time for prayer? In every hour, while life is spared to thee-- In crowds or solitude--in joy or care-- Thy thoughts should heavenward flee. At home--at morn and eve--with loved ones there, Bend thou the knee in prayer!
Not a sound invades the stillness, Not a form invades the scene, Save the voice of my Belovèd, And the person of my King.
And within those heavenly places, Calmly hushed in sweet repose, There I drink, with joy absorbing, All the love thou wouldst disclose.
Wrapt in deep adoring silence, Jesus, Lord, I dare not move, Lest I lose the smallest saying Meant to catch the ear of love.
Rest, then, O my soul, contented: Thou hast reached thy happy place In the bosom of thy Saviour, Gazing up in his dear face.
I often say my prayers, But do I ever pray; And do the wishes of my heart Go with the words I say?
I may as well kneel down And worship gods of stone, As offer to the living God A prayer of words alone.
For words without the heart The Lord will never hear: Nor will he to those lips attend Whose prayers are not sincere.
What various hindrances we meet In coming to a mercy-seat! Yet who that knows the worth of prayer But wishes to be often there!
Prayer makes the darkened cloud withdraw; Prayer climbs the ladder Jacob saw; Gives exercise to faith and love; Brings every blessing from above.
Restraining prayer, we cease to fight; Prayer keeps the Christian's armor bright; And Satan trembles when he sees The weakest saint upon his knees.
Were half the breath that's vainly spent To heaven in supplication sent, Our cheerful song would oftener be "Hear what the Lord has done for me."
Prayer is the soul's sincere desire, Uttered or unexpressed; The motion of a hidden fire That trembles in the breast.
Prayer is the burden of a sigh, The falling of a tear, The upward glancing of an eye, When none but God is near.
Prayer is the simplest form of speech That infant lips can try; Prayer the sublimest strains that reach The Majesty on high.
