A Prayer of George Matheson

No part of my being needs Thee like my heart.
All else within me can be filled with Thy gifts.
My hunger can be satisfied by daily bread.
My thirst can be allayed by earthly waters.
My cold can be removed by household fires.
My weariness can be relieved by outward rest.
But no outward thing can make my heart pure.
The calmest day will not calm my passions.
The fairest scene will not beautify my soul.
The richest music will not make harmony within.
The breezes can cleanse the air, but no breeze can cleanse a spirit.
This world has not provided for my heart.
It has provided for my eyes, it has provided for my ears, it has provided for my touch, it has provided for my taste, it has provided for my sense of beauty-but it has not provided for my heart.
Provide Thou for my heart, O Lord!
It is the only unwinged bird in all creation.
Give it wings! O Lord! Give it wings!
Earth has failed to give it wings; its very power of loving has often drawn it into the mire.
Be Thou the strength of my heart.
Be Thou its fortress in temptation, its shield in remorse, its covert in the storm, its star in the night, its voice in the solitude.
Guide it in its gloom, help it in its faintness, prompt it in its perplexity, lead it through its labyrinth, raise it from its ruins.
I cannot rule this heart of mine; keep it under the shadow of Thy Own wings.