When the house doth sigh and weep, And the world is drowned in sleep, Yet mine eyes the watch do keep, Sweet Spirit, comfort me! When the artless doctor sees No one hope but of his fees, And his skill runs on the lees, Sweet Spirit, comfort me! When his potion and his pill Has or none or little skill, Meet for nothing but to kill,-- Sweet Spirit, comfort me! When the passing-bell doth toll, And the Furies, in a shoal, Come to fright a parting soul, Sweet Spirit, comfort me! When the tapers now burn blue, And the comforters are few, And that number more than true, Sweet Spirit, comfort me! When the priest his last hath prayed, And I nod to what is said 'Cause my speech is now decayed, Sweet Spirit, comfort me! When, God knows, I'm tost about Either with despair or doubt, Yet before the glass be out, Sweet Spirit, comfort me! When the tempter me pursu'th With the sins of all my youth, And half damns me with untruth, Sweet Spirit, comfort me! When the dames and hellish cries Fright mine ears, and fright mine eyes, And all terrors me surprise, Sweet Spirit, comfort me! When the judgment is revealed, And that opened which was sealed,-- When to thee I have appealed, Sweet Spirit, comfort me! ROBERT HERRICK. * * * * * HOPE OF THE HUMAN HEART. FROM "ANIMA MUNDI." God is good. And flight is destined for the callow wing, And the high appetite implies the food, And souls most reach the level whence they spring; O Life of very life! set free our powers, Hasten the travail of the yearning hours. Thou, to whom old Philosophy bent low, To the wise few mysteriously revealed; Thou, whom each humble Christian worships now, In the poor hamlet and the open field: Once an idea, now Comforter and Friend, Hope of the human heart, descend, descend! RICHARD MONCKTON MILNES. (LORD HOUGHTON.) II. PRAYER AND ASPIRATION. * * * * * WHAT IS PRAYER? Prayer is the soul's sincere desire, Uttered or unexpressed-- The motion of a hidden fire That trembles in the breast. Prayer is the burthen 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. Prayer is the contrite sinner's voice Returning from his ways, While angels in their songs rejoice, And cry, "Behold he prays!" Prayer is the Christian's vital breath-- The Christian's native air-- His watchword at the gates of death-- He enters heaven with prayer. The saints in prayer appear as one In word, and deed, and mind, While with the Father and the Son Sweet fellowship they find.