A Prayer

Father, we lift the suppliant eye, To where thou reigns’t above; We feel that thou canst not deny The children of thy love.

Unshaken faith, unwavering trust, Are all that we can bring; We are thy children, though in dust, To thee we dare to cling.

We know that thou wilt not forsake The poor and trembling slave; For him the blessed Saviour spake; And him he came to save.

We feel the chains that bind us all, And bend us to man’s will; But can they hold our souls enthrall’d, Or bid our voice be still?

No:—for thy power is all supreme, Thy word shall yet stand firm; And master and the slave shall e’en To thee for mercy turn.