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Harriet Batchelor's Anthology 

The Voice of Prayer on Behalf of Missionaries in Heathen Lands
Father! Almighty friend above!

We lift our eyes to Thee,

And for the children of Thy love,

With deep humility,

We pray, and plead, that from yon heaven,

Their lives to them a prey be given.

Yes, wheresoever they may be,

Wherever they may go,

Let Thine especial blessings free

In large abundance flow,

Rejoice their souls, and fill their hearts,

With wisdom in the hidden parts.

To foreign climes from all that’s dear

They in Thy strength have gone,

The sigh they stifled, and the tear

That to the eye was drawn,

By self-denying love’s farewell,

The inward struggle might not tell.

If they have toil’d and labour’d long

For hearts both cold and dead,

And still not joyful is their song,

By souls to Jesus lead,

Seem they with ill success to meet

With heathen hearts of dark deceit,

O let not discouraged be!

O let them never cease

To hope, and trust, and wait for Thee,

Thou God of Truth and Peace;

Nor hope, nor trust, nor wait in vain,

Can they, dear Lord, on Thy great Name.

O Father! be Thou pleased to give

Thy Servants for their hire

Soul precious; and while here they live,

Grant they may never tire;

Until in heaven their full reward

They shall obtain through Christ the Lord.

O let us be un Thee refresh’d,

Some good news let us hear,

From countries far than ours less blest,

From all our brethren dear;

Whose cheerful service ‘tis to win

Strange children from the paths of sin.

O let us never them forget,

O let us not decline

From prayer that greater blessings yet

Of Glorious power divine

May be revealed on every hand,

Save, save, for mighty is Thy hand.

O let the darkness pass away

Right early as a cloud!

That it no longer, Father, may

Benighted souls enshroud.

Let Light outspread her shining wings,

Thee, we intreat, Thou King of kings.

By heathen let Thy voice be heard,

O that they may receive

The priceless treasures of Thy word,

To Thee their Saviour cleave.

And love no other name so well

As Thine whose love no tongue can tell.

They speak, their voice we seem to hear,

Who have themselves denied,

Shall souls through any worthless fear

For whom the Saviour died,

He left to perish? God forbid!

No may their lives in Christ be hid.

We glory in the cross of Christ,

Yes, we the shame despise,

Souls bought at such a costly price

Must to perfection rise.

O let us not be faithless found!

Soon shall we hear the trumpet sound

Praise.
My God; my god; when I behold

Thy wondrous works on high,

The moon in brightness travelling on,

Through all the boundless sky,

The numerous stars by Thee all told,

The radiant dazzling Sun,

I marvel, and my soul exclaims,

What great things Thou hast done:

How vast are Thy dominions, Lord,

And Thine exalted throne

Endures for ever, (as Thyself,)

Whereon Thou reign’st alone.

Thyself, Thy glorious throne, Thy word.

For ever shall endure,

As great Thy wisdom as Thy love,

And all Thy word is pure.

How insignificant is man,

If him we would compare

With God the everlasting Lord,

Whose reign is every where.

Poor and dependent, Lord am I,

And willing so to be,

Since Thou art God a Being wise

Who careth much for me.

Evening.
Ever welcome peaceful evening,

Thy attractions are not small,

Joys serene around us hover

As thy shadows o’er us fall.

Morn awakes us to its gladness,

To its hopes and its new life.

With ambitious aspirations, Morn and Noon is ever rife.

But the evening hour is peaceful

When the cares of day are past

And its all important duties

Well performed from first to last.

Then it is we find it pleasant

In the quiet evening hour

To rejoice in all the various

Privileges that are ours.

Then it is with happy freedom

We indulge each fond pursuit,

Social converse, or the charming

Blissful notes of harp, or lute.

Or perchance far more inviting,

Is the silent moment fraught,

With reflection, calm, and holy,

Pare and unimpassioned thought.

Ever welcome peaceful evening.

Grateful thus I am for thee.

Worthy of my grateful feeling

Art thou truly, verily.

For without thee, something wating

There would be I’m very sure,

Welcome therefore, welcome be, the

Hallow’d evening, calm, and pure.

What I Love.
I love a brow unclouded,

Lighted by a smile,

Expressive of right feeling,

A heart unstain’d of guile.

A countenance o’ershadow’d,

By frown where peeping out,

I see the enemy of souls,

I’ve nought to say about.

What to Choose.
Beloved, choose that which is good,

But that which is evil detest,

Or it will, as the flame burneth wood,

Consume every joy of your breast

Though an evil at present appears

But a small insignificant thing,

Unworthy to ‘waken your fears,

Or give to your conscience a sting.

If you do not subdue it at once,

Vanquish, o’ercome it outright,

It will overcome you as a dunce,

And rob you of happiness quite.

The Name which is Above every name

Christ Jesus, O how precious!

How glorious is Thy Name,

How charming to believers

In whom Thy graces reign.

Thy Name it is both lovely

And beautiful and fair,

It is the best of all names

Which men or angels bear.

The Change.
When call’d from nature’s darkness

To taste redeeming love,

My soul beat high with rapture

Akin to those above.

The foliage seemed fresher

And greener than before,

The dew drops alone more brilliantly,

The sky appeared more pure;

All things appear’d to shine, and wave,

In silent but emphatic praise,

Of God the great Creator.

Religion.
O say not of Religion

It is unreal and vain,

It is not false nor fleeting

But enduring as the name,

Of Him by whom religion comes

Of whom religion is,

O love religion and that heart

Of thine shall ever live.

Judge Not.
Judge thy neighbour never

But judgement leave to Him

Whose eyes are open ever

And whose sight is never dim.

My Soul’s Desire.
O Thou whom my soul desireth,

Precious Jesus Christ of God,

Can I offer aught that’s worthy

Of Thy pure and priceless love?

If my time should be devoted

To Thyself, from morn till eve,

All would if weigh’d in the balance

Only me a debtor leave

A Thought for the Future.
When gay young Spring appears again

Our spirits to revive,

And with the cheerful song of bird

All nature is alive

And when the Sun high in the sky

Shines warm on all below

When fragrance-laden winds go by

And gentle breezes blow

When flowers peep from their hiding place

And all things are in bloom,

When earth her fairest dress of green

Rejoices to assume,

Where shall I be, and what my lot?

Who knoweth, who can tell?

God only, in Him I must hope

That all will then be well,

Anxious thought I must not take

For future time to come,

If time goes well with me no doubt

It will go ill with some,

A world of change, a world of strife

This life I find to be,

Reverses here we sometimes prove,

Sometimes prosperity.

The Foe
Sin is alas the greatest ill

Known in this world of woe,

To Man is always was (is still)

The most accursed foe.

Destroying peace and happiness

And planting in its stead

Evils quite as numberless

As hairs upon his head.

The miseries of sin to tell,

A blight on old and young,

‘Tis quite beyond (we know full well)

The power of human tongue.

Salvation is of the Lord.

From sin to save me condescend,

Right early rescue me,

O God; before Thy throne I bend,

Panting to be free!

But like a prisoner Captive bound,

As helpless, Lord am I,

Let Thy Salvation now be found,

Save me, or I die.

The Love of God.
For God so loved the world

His only Son He gave,

His well-beloved precious One.

Souls to redeem and save.

O let me grateful be

For such a priceless gift,

O let me seek by Him to be

In all things pure enrich’d!