Classic Poem

Lord ! let my prayer like incense rise,
And when I lift my hands to Thee,
As on the evening sacrifice,
Look down from heaven, well-pleased, on me.

Set Thou a watch to keep my tongue,
Let not my heart to sin incline;
Save me from men who practise wrong,
Let me not share their mirth and wine.

But let the righteous, when I stray,
Smite me in love; — his strokes are kind;
His mild reproofs, like oil, allay
The wounds they make, and heal the mind.

Mine eyes are unto Thee, my God!
Behold me humbled in the dust;
I kiss the hand that wields the rod,
I own thy chastisements are just.

But O! redeem me from the snares
With which the world surrounds my feet,
— Its riches, vanities, and cares,
Its love, its hatred, its deceit.