thou givest us the power to produce from out the cold
hard ground. We thank thee for the lilies and the roses
which grow obedient to the gardener's thoughtful call,
beautifying the fields and adorning many a house; and
bless thee for thy loving-kindness which scatters wild
roses along every rural path and about the margin of
many a pond, and on the borders of every sluggish stream
plants thy lilies, wherewith the enamoured water, pausing
in the beauty of its course, wantons, as it were, upon its handsome shores. thou Infinite One, we thank thee
that thou revealest thyself not only in books writ with
human pens, but in all the stars above, in every blade of
grass, in every fruit and flower which the gardener's
thoughtful care produces from the ground, or in these, the roses and lilies which thy beneficent hand profusely scatters by many a pond and long-lingering stream.
We remember before thee our own lives, and thank thee for these bodies so hopefully and wonderfully made, and these overmastering souls which enchant a handful of dust into living, thinking, and worshipping frames of matter, that are so animated with heavenly life. We bless thee for our daily work which feeds and clothes our bodies, and, though we ask it not, which instructs our understanding, and elevates our earnest conscience and heart and soul.
We remember before thee those that are near and dear to us, bone of our bone, and flesh of our flesh, whose very presence is a joy, and whose recollection is a blessing to our heart. Lord, we remember before thee those whose flesh the grave hides from our eyes, but who are still life of our life, soul of our soul, those who have ceased from their labours and have gone home to thy more intimate presence, rejoicing, and advancing from glory to glory.
We remember before thee the trials thou givest us, and the temptations, often too strong for us to bear, and we pray thee that we may rouse up every noblest faculty in us, and so live that though our outward man should perish, the inward man may be renewed day by day, advancing towards the measure of the stature of a perfect man. Father who art in heaven, Mother who art near us al- ways, we pray thee that there may be such religious faithfulness in us that not only the prayer of our Sunday morning shall be acceptable to thee, but all the work of our daily
