A Prayer for the Year, 1745

ALMIGHTY Wisdom, at whose Nod
The Stars shall cease to shine,
Great Nature's Father, Guide, and God,
O let me call thee mine.

Yet not for me, and me alone,
Thy Mercies I implore:
No, let that Bliss to all be known,
That tremble and adore.

Now Fear, that makes the Sorrows flow
Ev'n from the Infant's Eyes,
O'er-whelms in one promiscuous Woe
The Ignorant and Wise.

Then hear, O hear, thy Servants cry,
We beg thy saving Hand:
To whom but Heav'n shou'd we apply,
To raise a drooping Land!

Be thou the Guard of helpless Age,
The wretched Orphan's Friend:
O smooth the Face of hostile Rage,
And spare its purple End.

Restrain the Hand of threat'ning Pride,
Asswage the cruel Breast:
Teach Mercy to the Victor Side,
And Patience to the rest.

And when the Sword of Conquest shall
The trembling Wretch arraign,
Let Justice guide the equal Scale,
Nor swerve the steady Beam.

Preserve the merciful and kind
From Violence and Pain:
And let the meek and gentle Mind
Rejoice, and not complain.

Nor let the barb'rous Steel invade
The Breast of hoary Age:
Nor give the unresisting Babe
A Prey to purple Rage.

Amongst un-number'd Worlds if I
Am worth my Maker's Care,
Then let me live and let me die
Unwounded by Despair.

Tho' Want or Peril, Pain or Death,
Assault this feeble Clay,
Let Hope attend my latest Breath
And chear the gloomy Way.

Preserve my Parent and my Friend
From Danger, Guilt or Shame:
In Peace their chearful Days extend
To praise thy holy Name.

Forgive the Errors of my Youth,
If in my Youth I fall:
Or teach my Age thy saving Truth,
O hear me when I call.

Thou mighty Lord of all above
And all beneath the Sun,
Thy Servant's humble Suit approve;
If not, thy Will be done.