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The Prayer Of A Lonely Heart Post by :RoseJac Category :Poems Author :Fanny Kemble Date :November 2011 Read :1335

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The Prayer Of A Lonely Heart

I am alone--oh be thou near to me,
Great God! from whom the meanest are not far.
Not in presumption of the daring spirit,
Striving to find the secrets of itself,
Make I my weeping prayer; in the deep want
Of utter loneliness, my God! I seek thee;
If the worm may creep up to thy fellowship,
Or dust, instinct with yearning, rise towards thee.
I have no fellow, Father! of my kind;
None that be kindred, none companion to me,
And the vast love, and harmony, and brotherhood,
Of the dumb creatures thou hast made below me,
Vexes my soul with its own bitter lot.
Around me grow the trees, each by the other;
Innumerable leaves, each like the other,
Whisper and breathe, and live and move together.
Around me spring the flowers; each rosy cup
Hath sisters, leaning their fair cheeks against it.
The birds fly all above me; not alone,
But coupled in free fellowship, or mustering
A joyous band, weeping in companies
The wide blue fields between the clouds;--the clouds
Troop in society, each on the other
Shedding, like sympathy, reflected light.
The waves, a multitude, together run
To the great breast of the receiving sea:
Nothing but hath its kind, its company,
Oh God! save I alone! then, let me come,
Good Father! to thy feet, when even as now,
Tears, that no human hand is near to wipe,
O'erbrim my eyes, oh wipe them, thou, my Father!
When in my heart the stores of its affections,
Piled up unused, locked fast, are like to burst
The fleshly casket, that may not contain them,
Let me come nigh to thee;--accept thou them,
Dear Father!--Fount of Love! Compassionate God!
When in my spirit burns the fire, the power,
That have made men utter the words of angels,
And none are near to bid me speak and live:
Hearken, oh Father! Maker of my spirit!
God of my soul, to thee I will outpour
The hymns resounding through my troubled mind,
The sighs and sorrows of my lonely heart,
The tears, and weeping, of my weary eyes:
Be thou my fellow, glorious, gracious God!
And fit me for such fellowship with thee!

(The end)
Fanny Kemble's poem: Prayer Of A Lonely Heart

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Absence Absence

What shall I do with all the days and hours That must be counted ere I see thy face?How shall I charm the interval that lowers Between this time and that sweet time of grace?Shall I in slumber steep each weary sense, Weary with longing?--shall I flee awayInto past days, and with some fond pretence Cheat myself to forget the present day?Shall love for thee lay on my soul the sin Of casting from me God's great gift of time;Shall I these mists of memory locked within, Leave, and

Lines, Addressed To The Young Gentlemen Leaving The Academy At Lenox, Massachuse Lines, Addressed To The Young Gentlemen Leaving The Academy At Lenox, Massachuse

Lines, Addressed To The Young Gentlemen Leaving The Academy At Lenox, Massachuse
Life is before ye--and while now ye standEager to spring upon the promised land,Fair smiles the way yet your feet have trodBut few light steps, upon a flowery sod;Round ye are youth's green bowers, and to your eyesTh' horizon's line joins earth with the bright skies;Daring and triumph, pleasure, fame, and joy,Friendship unwavering, love without alloy,Brave thoughts of noble deeds, and glory won,Like angels, beckon ye to venture on.And if o'er the bright scene some shadows rise,Far off they seem, at hand the sunshine lies;The distant clouds, which of ye pause to fear?Shall not a brightness gild them when more