A Cyclopædia of Sacred Poetical Quotations / Consisting of Choice Passages from the Sacred Poetry of All Ages and Countries, Classified and Arranged, for Facility of Reference, Under Subject Headings; Illustrated by Striking Passages from Scripture, and Forming Altogether a Complete Book of Devotional Poetry.

by Unknown

Take charge of me, and of my end.

Crashaw.

Like the low murmur of the secret stream,

Which through dark alders winds its shaded way,

My suppliant voice is heard. Ah, do not deem

That on vain toys I throw my hours away.

In the recesses of the forest vale,

On the wild mountains, on the verdant sod,

When the fresh breezes of the morn prevail,

I wander lone, communing with my God.