The Prayer in the Wilderness: Suggested by a Picture of Correggio’s

In the deep wilderness unseen she pray’d,The daughter of Jerusalem; aloneWith all the still, small whispers of the night,And with the searching glances of the stars,And with her God, alone: she lifted upHer sweet, sad voice, and, trembling o’er her head,The dark leaves thrill’d with prayer--the tearful prayerOf woman’s quenchless, yet repentant love.

Father of Spirits, hear!Look on the inmost heart to thee reveal’d,Look on the fountain of the burning tear,Before thy sight in solitude unseal’d!

Hear, Father! hear, and aid!If I have loved too well, if I have shed,In my vain fondness, o’er a mortal head,Gifts on thy shrine, my God! more fitly laid;

If I have sought to liveBut in one light, and made a human eyeThe lonely star of mine idolatry,Thou that art Love! oh, pity and forgive!

Chasten’d and school’d at last,No more, no more my struggling spirit burns,But, fix’d on thee, from that wild worship turns--What have I said?--the deep dream is not past!

Yet hear!--if still I love,Oh! still too fondly--if, for ever seen,An earthly image comes my heart betweenAnd thy calm glory, Father! throned above;

If still a voice is near,(E’en while I strive these wanderings to control,)An earthly voice disquieting my soulWith its deep music, too intensely dear;

O Father! draw to theeMy lost affections back!--the dreaming eyesClear from their mist--sustain the heart that dies,Give the worn soul once more its pinions free!

I must love on, O God!This bosom must love on!--but let thy breathTouch and make pure the flame that knows not death,Bearing it up to heaven--love’s own abode!

Ages and ages past, the wilderness,With its dark cedars, and the thrilling night,With her clear stars, and the mysterious winds,That waft all sound, were conscious of those prayers.How many such hath woman’s bursting heartSince then, in silence and in darkness breathed,Like the dim night-flower’s odour, up to God!