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P. M.



Shall we grow weary in our watch,

And murmur at the long delay,

Impatient of our Father’s time

And his appointed way?

O, oft a deeper test of faith

Than prison-cell, or martyr’s stake,

The self-renouncing watchfulness

Of silent prayer may make.

We gird us bravely to rebuke

Our erring brother in the wrong;

And in the ear of pride and power

Our warning voice is strong.

Easier to smite with Peter’s sword

Than watch one hour in humbling prayer;

Life’s great things, like the Syrian lord,

Our hearts can do and dare:

But, O, we shrink from Jordan’s side,

From waters which alone can save;

And murmur for Abana’s banks

And Pharpar’s brighter wave.

O Thou, who in the garden’s shade

Didst wake thy weary ones again,

Who slumbered at that fearful hour,

Forgetful of thy pain,—

Bend o’er us now, as over them,

And set our sleep-bound spirits free,

Nor leave us slumbering in the watch

Our souls should keep with thee!

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