4 May prayer now lift her sacred wings, Contented with that aim alone Which bears her to the King of kings, And rests her at his sheltering throne. 485. 10 & 6s. M. Anonymous. The Sabbath. 1 Thou givest Thy Sabbath, Lord; the din is stilled Of man's unquiet care; A sacred calm, with Thy deep presence filled, Breathes through the silent air. 2 O leave us not, through long and darkened hours, In night of woe and sin, But shed Thy Sabbath with its radiant powers Upon the world within. 3 Purge from our hearts the stains so deep and foul, Of wrath and pride and care; Send Thine own holy calm upon the soul, And bid it settle there. 4 Banish this craving self that still has sought Lord of the soul to be; Teach us to turn to fellow-men our thought; Teach us to turn to Thee! 5 Teach us to love Thy creatures great and small To live as in Thine eye; Thou who hast freely given Thy love to all;-- Thou who to all art nigh! 486. L. M. Alford. The Seed of the Word. 1 O Thou, at whose divine command Good seed is sown in every land, Thy holy spirit now impart, And for Thy word prepare each heart! 2 Not 'mid the thorns of worldly thought, Nor soon by passing plunderers caught, Nor lacking depth the root to feed, May we receive Thy spirit's seed; 3 But may it, where Thy sowers toil, Fall in a good and honest soil; And springing up from firmest root, Through patience, bear abundant fruit. 487. L. M. E. H. Chapin. The Gate of Heaven. 1 Our Father God! not face to face May mortal sense commune with Thee, Nor lift the curtains of that place Where dwells Thy secret Majesty. Yet whereso'er our spirits bend In rev'rent faith and humble prayer, Thy promised blessing will descend, And we shall find Thy spirit there. 2 Lord! be the spot where now we meet An open gateway into heaven; Here may we sit at Jesus' feet, And feel our deepest sins forgiven. Here may desponding care look up; And sorrow lay its burden down, Or learn, of him, to drink the cup, To bear the cross, and win the crown. 3 Here may the sick and wandering soul To truth still blind, to sin a slave, Find better than Bethesda's pool, Or than Siloam's healing wave. And may we learn, while here apart From the world's passion and its strife; That Thy true shrine's a loving heart, And Thy best praise a holy life! 488. P. M. Anonymous. O Father! Hear.