A Diary of Private Prayer

My package from Amazon.com came today, bringing with it the last two books of my order: Writer's Market 2008 and A Diary of Private Prayer by John Baillie. I came across John Baillie's prayers in a devotional book, and was drawn to them immediately. He is straightforward in expression, but almost poetic in the beauty of his phrasing. There are two prayers for each day of the month, and space beside them for notes.

Here is the prayer for the morning of the seventh day:

"O Lord and Maker of all things, from whose creative power the first light came forth, who didst look upon the world's first morning and see that it was good. I praise Thee for this light that now streams through my windows to rouse me to the life of another day.

I praise Thee for the life that stirs within me:
I praise Thee for the bright and beautiful world into which I go:
I praise Thee for eart and sea and sky, for scudding cloud and singing bird:
I praise Thee for the work Thou hast given me to do:
I praise Thee for all that Thou hast given me to fill my leisure hours:
I praise Thee for my friends:
I praise Thee for music and books and good company and all pure pleasures.

O Thou who Thyself art everlasting Mercy, give me a tender heart to-day towards all those to whom the morning light brings less joy than it brings to me:
Those in whom the pulse of life grows weak:
Those who must lie abed through all the sunny hourse:
The blind, who are shut off from the light of day:
The overworked, who have no joy of leisure:
The unemployed, who have no joy of labour:
The bereaved, whose hearts and homes are desolate:
And grant Thy mercy on them all.

O Light that never fades, as the light of day now streams through these windows and floods this room, so let me open to Thee the windows of my heart, that all my life may be filled by the radiance of Thy presence. Let no corner of my being be unillumined by the light of Thy countenance. Let there be nothing within me to darken the brightness of the day. Let the Spirit of Him whose life was the light of men rule within my heart till eventide.

Amen."

The Spires of Oxford

I saw the spires of oxford
As I was passing by,
The grey spires of Oxford
Against a pearl-grey sky;
My heart was with the Oxford men
Who went abroad to die.

The Years go fast in Oxford,
The golden years and gay;
The hoary colleges look down
On careless boys at play,
But when the bugles sounded--War!
They put their games away.

They left the peaceful river,
The cricket field, the quad,
The shaven lawns of Oxford
To seek a bloody sod.
They gave their merry youth away
For country and for God.

God rest you, happy gentlemen,
Who laid your good lives down,
Who took the kahki and the gun
Instead of cap and gown.
God bring you to a fairer place
Than even Oxford town.

-- Winnifred M. Letts
Published during the First World War

I came across a thin red volume of poetry in a used bookstore last summer. The title, The Spires of Oxford and Other Poems, caught my attention. I decided to add it to my stack, and the one dollar I paid for it was richly rewarded. There is a gentle beauty in the poignant sense of loss that Winnifred expresses in her poems.

I Will Praise My God, While I Live

My soul, praise thou the Lord: O Lord my God, Thou art exceeding great, Thou art clothed with glory and honor.
Which covereth Himself with light, as with a garment, and spreadeth the heavens like a curtain.
Which layeth the beams of His chambers in the waters, and maketh the clouds His chariot, and walketh upon the wings of the wind.
Which maketh the spirits His messengers, and a flaming fire His minsters.
He set the earth upon her foundations, so that it shall never move.
Thou coverest it with the deep as with a garment: the waters would stand above the mountains.
O Lord, how manifold are Thy works! In wisdom hast Thou made them all: the earth is full of Thy riches.
So is the sea great and wide: for therein are things creeping unnumerable, both small beasts and great.
Glory be to the Lord forever: let the Lord rejoice in His works.
I will sing unto the Lord all my life: I will praise my God, while I live.

~ Selections from Psalm 104

Whither Must I Wander?

I was unfamiliar with Robert Louis Stevenson's Songs of Travel until I heard the musical settings composed by Ralph Vaughan Williams (who is certainly my favorite English composer, and perhaps my favorite overall, as well). Of all of them, my favorite is certainly "Whither Must I Wander?" I typically prefer happy songs, but the melancholy beauty of Stevenson's poetry combined with Vaughan William's music is so poignant and breathtaking that it hurts--hurts in a way that does not make you want to avoid the pain, but rather embrace it.


Whither Must I Wander?
Home no more home to me, whither must I wander?
Hunger my driver, I go where I must.
Cold blows the winter wind over hill and heather:
Thick drives the rain and my roof is in the dust.
Loved of wise men was the shade of my roof-tree,
The true word of welcome was spoken in the door -
Dear days of old with the faces in the firelight,
Kind folks of old, you come again no more.

Home was home then, my dear, full of kindly faces,
Home was home then, my dear, happy for the child.
Fire and the windows bright glittered on the moorland;
Song, tuneful song, built a palace in the wild.
Now when day dawns on the brow of the moorland,
Lone stands the house, and the chimney-stone is cold.
Lone let it stand, now the friends are all departed,
The kind hearts, the true hearts, that loved the place of old.

Spring shall come, come again, calling up the moorfowl,
Spring shall bring the sun and the rain, bring the bees and flowers;
Red shall the heather bloom over hill and valley,
Soft flow the stream through the even-flowing hours.
Fair the day shine as it shone on my childhood -
Fair shine the day on the house with open door;
Birds come and cry there and twitter in the chimney -
But I go for ever and come again no more.


If you would like to hear a clip of the musical setting, you can listen to it on Amazon -- Vaughan Williams: Songs of Travel. I particularly like this album, sung by Roderick Williams. His voice is clear and deep, perfect for the tone of the poem.

This song reminds me of how much I have to be grateful for -- my chimney stone is not cold, nor is my roof lying in the dust. And best of all, my home is full of kindly faces. I find it difficult to even fathom what it would be like to lose those things.

Praise and Thanksgiving from "The Valley of Vision"

I have recently begun reading through The Valley of Vision, a collection of Puritan prayers arranged by Arthur Bennett. Each prayer that I read is my favorite -- they are exquisite expressions of devotion to God that read like poetry. It is a little late for Thanksgiving, but gratitude should be a year-round feeling!

Praise and Thanksgiving

O my God,
Thou fairest, greatest, first of all objects,
my heart admires, adores, loves Thee,
for my little vessel is as full as it can be,
and I would pour out all that fullness before Thee in ceaseless flow.

When I think upon and converse with Thee
     ten thousand delightful thoughts spring up,
     ten thousand sources of pleasure are unseal,
     ten thousand refreshing joys spread over my heart,
     crowding into every moment of happiness.

I bless thee for the soul thou hast created,
     for adorning it, sanctifying it, though it is fixed in barren soil;
     for the body thou hast given me,
     for preserving its strength and vigour,
     for providing sense to enjoy delights,
     for the ease and freedom of my limbs,
     for hands, eyes, ears that do thy bidding;
     for thy royal bounty providing my daily support,
     for a full table and overflowing cup,
     for appetite, taste, sweetness,
     for social joys of relatives and friends,
     for ability to serve others,
     for a heart that feels sorrow and necessities,
     for a mind to care for my fellow-men,
     for opportunities of spreading happiness around,
     for loved ones in the joys of heaven,
     for my own expectation of seeing thee clearly.

I love thee above the powers of language to express,
     for what thou are to thy creatures.

Increase my love, O my God, through time and eternity.

Psalm 148

Praise ye the LORD.

Praise ye the LORD from the heavens: praise him in the heights.
Praise ye him, all his angels: praise ye him, all his hosts.
Praise ye him, sun and moon: praise him, all ye stars of light.
Praise him, ye heavens of heavens, and ye waters that be above the heavens.
Let them praise the name of the LORD: for he commanded, and they were created.
He hath also stablished them for ever and ever: he hath made a decree which shall not pass.
Praise the LORD from the earth, ye dragons, and all deeps:
Fire, and hail; snow, and vapours; stormy wind fulfilling his word:
Mountains, and all hills; fruitful trees, and all cedars:
Beasts, and all cattle; creeping things, and flying fowl:
Kings of the earth, and all people; princes, and all judges of the earth:
Both young men, and maidens; old men, and children:
Let them praise the name of the LORD: for his name alone is excellent; his glory is above the earth and heaven.
He also exalteth the horn of his people, the praise of all his saints; even of the children of Israel, a people near unto him.

Praise ye the LORD.