Alexandria gazette. [volume] (Alexandria, D.C.) 1834-1974, 1867-04-20

ShA len Of LIE SOO1h. =,
Nv brow is bent beneath a heavy rod
My face is wan and white with many woes,
But I will lift my poor, chained hands to God,
And for my children pray and for my foes.
Beside the caves where thousands lowly
kneel-and weeping for each slaugh-
~. tered son
[ turn my gaze to my own sunny sky,
And pray, Oh Father, may Thy will be
done.
My heart is filled with anguish, deep and vast
My hopes are buried with my children dust,
NV Joys have hed-my tears are flowing fast
In whom, save Thee, our Father, shall [
trust.
All forgot Thee, Father, long and oft,
When | was happy, rich and proud,
and Tree;
But conquered now, and crushed, look
aloft,
And sorrow leads me- Father, back to
Amid the wrecks that mark the toeman's path
kneel-and wailiog o er my glories gone,
still each thought of hate, each throb of wrath,
And whisper Father! let Thy will be done.
Pity me, Father Of the Desolate!
Alas my burdens are so hard to bear;
Look dowo in mercy on my wretched fate,
ing cafe
Pity me, Father for His holy sake
Whose broken Heart bled at the feet of Grief,
That hearts Of earth, wherever they shall break,
Might so to His and 6od sure relief.
All, me how dark Is this brlef
eclipse?
Or isit Night with no To. n orrow' s Sun?
Oh Father Father! with my pale, sad
And sadder heart, pray-Thy will be
done
AIy homes are joyless, and million mourn
Where many met in joys forever flown;
Whose hearts were light, are burdened now,
and lorn,
Where many smiled, but one is left to mourn:
And ah! the widows walls, the orphans
Are morning hymn, and vesper chant
to me;
And groans of men, and sounds of wo-
mems slghs
Commingle, Father, with my prayer to
Thee
Beneath my feet--ten thousand children dead
Oil how loved each known, and nameess,
Above their dust bow my crownless head,
And murmur-Father still-Thy will be
done.
Ah Father Thou iilst deck my own
With all bright charms, and beautiful
and fair;
But foemen came, aud with ruthless hand
Spread ruin, wreck and desolation there
Girdled with gloom-of all my brightness
shorn,
And garmented with grief, l kiss Thy rod
A-a taor q yVpt
70 catch one smile of pity from my God.
Around me blight, where all before was
bloom
And so much lost alas and nothing
Save this-that can lean on wreck and
tomb, 80,
And weep-and weeping pray-Thy will
be done. --.....-.
And oh It's hard to say-but said It's sweet
The words are bitter, but they hold balm J;
A balm that heals the wounds of my defeat,
And lulls my sorrows into holy calm. =,
It is the prayer Of Prayer-and how 1t
brings,
When heard in Heaven, peace and hope
to me;
When Jesus prayed it, did not angels
CLEAN mid the darkness of Gethsemane? l.?
Ny children Father, Thy forgiveness need
Alas their hearts have only place for tears;
Forgive them, Father, ev' 'ry wrongful deed
And eyry sin of those four bloody years.
And give them strength to bear their
boundless Loss,
And from their hearts take every thought
of hate
And While they climb their Calvary with
their Cross,
Oh help them, Father, to endure its
weight.
And for my Dead, my Father, may pray2
Ahl signs may soothe, but prayer shall
soothe me more!
keep eternal watch above their clay
Oh rest their souls, my Father, | implore!
Forgive my foes-they know not what they
do
Forgive them all the tears they made me
shed
Forgive them-though my nobeSt sons
they slew,
And bless them though they curse my
,- poor, dear Dead
Oh may my woes be each carrier dove
With swift, white wiogs, that, bathing IN my
tears,
Will bear Thee, Father, all my prayers Of love,
And bring nae peace in all my doubts and
fears
Father! Ikneel mid ruin, wreck and grave,
A desert-waste- all was erst so
fair; s.a
And for my children and my foes l crave
Pity and pardon-Father hear my
49, z PRAYER MONA.
The Emnrasa Har|otte has not entirely re-