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Poem by Caroline Fry (Wilson)


Israel's Prayer


FORSAKEN, desolate,Ah! where is he,
The God Eternal, whom our fathers served?
A God whose name his children vainly boast,
To bondage chosen, and to wrath preserved.

Ah! where is He, who erst, for Israel's sake,
Taught his own waters to forget their laws,
Dyed deep his right hand in the Heathen's blood,
And quench'd the nations for his people's cause?

Ah! where is He? Ah! where are they, who once
On Carmel's mount invok'd the living God?
Where do they wander, of the world despis'd,
Of Him who lov'd them spurn'd and disavow'd?

Will He forsake us? Will our God forget,
Forget his children of his chosen land?
Where Justice first aveng'd her slighted laws,
And Mercy stoop'd to stay the lifted hand.

Hear us, O thou, who wert our Father once,
Ere yet thy justice chas'd us from our home
Who art our Father now, although it be
Thine hour of promis'd mercy is not come.

O, hear our prayers!,And ye who love the name
Of Israel's God, be instant at his throne,
Let the loud orison be heard in heaven,
That He delay not to reclaim his own. 



Caroline Fry (Wilson)


Caroline Fry (Wilson)'s other poems:
  1. The Lily
  2. A Borrowed Thought
  3. Nature
  4. The Blossom
  5. The Harp of Judah

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