still move, as if in prayer,

A prayer we may not fully share;

But One is near, whose gracious ear,

The deep unuttered groan can hear.

Nor need we doubt or judge amiss,

What the heart’s inmost yearning is.

The quivering lip, the tearful eye,

Can well attest the earnest cry,

Of the stirred soul’s deep agony;

And taught of God, we join the prayer,

We may not fully hear or share.

Our eyes and hearts to Heaven we raise,

While thus the dying Indian prays:—

    “God of eternal Love,

Look from Thy throne above,

Bow down thy gracious ear,

My dying prayer to hear;

Fulfil Thy promises,

Thy promises to bless

The widow and the fatherless.

Grant this last boon I crave!

May they have bread when I am dead,

And by thy bounty still be fed,

When I am in my grave.

Better than earthly father’s care,

Oh! may they in thy goodness share!

Grant them all needed good;

For soul and body, food;

And may thy mighty arm,

Protect them from all harm.

I leave them at thy call,

Mother and children all:

Oh! let no fears appal!

And let them never fail or fall!

I trust them, Lord, to Thee,

Thou wilt their Father be,

For time and for eternity.

Thy promises are sure,

The needy, helpless, poor,

Though crushed to death and dust,

May in Thy goodness trust,

And rest upon thy Word,

Thou ever blessed Lord!”

    “Oh! bless my people! bless

Them in their helplessness!

Their poverty and wretchedness,

Their misery and distress.

Bless the whole Indian race!

That they may know thy grace!

Do thou their hearts prepare,

That they may freely share,

Those blessings rich and rare,

That from the Gospel flow,—

Salvation here below,

At all times trusting Thee, and go

To that bright World on high,

Of Glory when they die;

That they may shine,

In Love divine,

And with Thee rest

Forever blest!”

X.