THIS gloomy northern day,

Or this yet gloomier night,

Has moved a something high

In my cold heart; and I,

That do not often pray,

Would pray to-night.

And first on Thee I call

For bread, O God of might!

Enough of bread for all, —

That through the famished town

Cold hunger may lie down

With none to-night.

I pray for hope no less,

Strong-sinewed hope, O Lord,

That to the struggling young

May preach with brazen tongue

Stout Labour, high success,

And bright reward.
............