The Orangeburg news. [volume] (Orangeburg, S.C.) 1867-1875, 1867-06-22
Pc E T R Y
The Prayer of tho South.

ny FATHER RYAN.
My brow Is bent beneath q heavy rod! -
My face is won and white with many woes,
But willlift my poor, chained hand, to God,
And for my children pay, and for my foes, II.
the graves where thousands lowly lie,
1kpcel-and weeping for each slaughtered son,
Turn my gazo to my own sunny sky,
And pray, OH! Father, may Thy will be done!
My heart is fllsd with anguish, deep and vast:
My hopes nrc buried with My clildten's dust,
My joys have icd--my tears arc flowing fast; =. =
In whom, save Thee, our Father, shall trust!
All! forgot Thcc Father, long and oft,
When wns happy, rich, and proud and free;
But conquered now, and crushed look aloft
And sorrow leads me, Father, back TO Thee
Amid tho wrecks that mark the focman's patti,
Ikncel-nnd waing DER my glorics gone,
still each thought of hate, each throb of wrath
And whispcr-Fnthcr! let Thy will be done.
Pity my Father of the dcsolatc!
Alas !! my burdens SO hard TO bcar
Look down in mercy on my wrctchcd fate,
And keep me, guard mo with Thy loving carc
Pity mo, Father for His holy sake,
Whose broken heart blcd at the feet Of Grief
That hearts Of earth, wherever they shall break,
Might GO ITO His and find n sure relief.
All, me! how dark Is this brief eclipse!
Or isit Night with no To-morrows sum-
oh! Fathers Father! with my pnlc sad lips,
And saddcr heart, pray, Thy will be done.
My homes arc ioylcss, and n million mourn
Where many met in joys forever flown;
Whose hearts were light, are lurdcncd nov, and
lorn;
Where many smiled, but one is left to moan,
And nh the widows walls, the orphans cries,
Are morning hymn and vcspcr chant. to me-.
Nnd groh"s OF men, and sounds "f worncn's sigls,
Commiuslc. Father, with my prayer 10 Thee.
irncht hthf,x fecis-trn ,c;tsl.--
"A OH! howl loved each known, and namclcss, one
Nbpsc ahcir dust bow my crownlcss head,
And murmur, Father. still-Thy will be done
All! Father, Thru didst deck ms own uvc,l lanl
q With all bright charms and Beautiful and fair;
but focmcn came, and with ar,,thlcss hand,
Spread ruiz, wreck and dcsoluti6n there
..r:;eI with slvom,-of uli my brightness shoii
Anil gaimrntcd with grief, kiss Thy rod;
And turn my face, with tears all wet, and worn,
To catcl, one smile Of pity from my God.
.tro,nrl me blight, where all before was bloom. =,
And :" much ns-alas. and nothing won
Save tiis-tha can lean on wreck and tomb,
And wccp-a;r weeping pray, Thy will be done.
And Oh. tits hard to say-but said, it's sweet
The words arc bitter, but they hold bnlm:
4 balnr that heals the wounds Of my defeat
And lulls my SORROWS into holy calm.
1t is the prayer Of Prayers-nnd how it brings,
When hcardin Heaven, sweet peace and hope to
me;
When Jesus prayed it, did moi angels wings
Glcam mid tho darkness Of Gcthscmanc ~
Ny children, Father, Thy forgiveness need
Alas! their hearts have only pncc for tcars;
Forgive them, Father, ev'ry wrongful deed,
And crery sin of those four mournfill years.
And give them strength to bear their boundcss
Aud from their hearts take every thought of hate;
And whilo they climb their Calvary with their
Oh! help them, Father, TO cnluro its weight.
And for my dead my Father, may pray!
All! sighs may soothc, but praycr.shnll soothc me
more!
keep ctcrpal watch above their clay
Oh! rest their SOULS my Father, implorc.
Forgive my focs-ticy know not what they do
Forgive them all the cnrs they made me shed;
Forgive thcm-though my noblcst they slew
And bless them-thongb they cnrsc my poor, dear
dead!
OH may my woes be each n carrier dove
With swift, white wings that, bathing i'll my tears,
Will hear Thcc, Father all my prayers love,
And bring me, peace in a my doubts and fears.
Fathor'I kneel mid ruin, wreck and grave,
A desert waste, where all wns crst so far,
And for my children and my foes crave
Pity and pardon--Fa:her! hear my prayer!
LIT E R A RY.
s e Il f. @ TIE ID.
y ry'vr1Yu1 ~rT