Our Father who art in Heaven

Father in heaven! does God who made
And rules this universal frame—
Say, does he own a father's love,
And answer to a father's name?

Saviour divine! cleanser of guilt,
Redeemer of a ruined race!
These are thy cheering words, and this
The kind assurance of thy grace.

My God! my Father! may I dare—
I, all debased, with sin defiled—
These awful, soothing, names to join;
Am I thy creature and thy child?

Art thou my Father? then no more
My sins shall tempt me to despair;
A father pities and forgives,
And hears a child's repentant prayer.

Art thou my Father? let me strive
With all my powers to do thy will,
To make thy service all my care,
And all thy kind commands fulfil.

Art thou my Father? teach my heart
Compassion for another's woe,
And ever, to each child of thine,
A brother's tenderness to show.

Art thou my Father? then I know
When pain, or want, or griefs oppress,
They come but from a father's hand,
Which wounds to heal, afflicts to bless.

Art thou my Father? then in doubt
And darkness when I grope my way,
Thy light shall shine upon my path,
And make my darkness like thy day.

Art thou my Father? then no more
Tremble, my soul, at death's alarms:
He comes a messenger of love,
To bear me to a Father's arms.

My God! my Father! I am vile,
Prone to forget thee, weak, and blind:
Be thou my help, my strength, my trust,
Hope of my heart! light of my mind!
Rate this poem: 

Reviews

No reviews yet.