GOLDEN HOURS: Heart-Hymns of the Christian Life
Elizabeth Payson Prentiss
This is a rare glimpse into the heart of a sufferer, as the author of Stepping Heavenward and more love to Thee, O Christ put down her thoughts in verse during the most trying years of her life.
"I trust that many will be blessed by Prentiss' Heart-Hymns, which were born in the crucible of sorrow. I am one of those who, as she put it, 'cannot trace, but trust in Thee.' Read the poems, ponder them in your heart, be glad that we may deeply learn from her lessons." -Elisabeth Elliot, author of numerous books
"A favorite hymn of mine is More Love to Thee, O Christ and I am delighted to recommend this entire volume of Elizabeth Prentiss' inspired poetry and hymn writing to you. It will be a wonderful way to enrich your personal worship." - Benjamin Harlan, Dean, School of Church Music, Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary
"Elizabeth Prentiss did not squander her suffering. She mined the 'treasures of darkness and hidden riches of secret places' and she learned that 'I, the LORD, Who call you by your name, am the God of Israel' (Isaiah 45:3). In this gem of a book, she gives us a glimpse not only of the treasures she mined but of her darkness, providing a backdrop against which those treasures sparkle all the more brightly. What a gift!" - Susan Hunt, Women in the Church for the PCA
"In Golden Hours Prentiss unmasks the secret of suffering: hard providences answer our prayers to see Him face to face. Reprinting this book is a priceless gift to those who find themselves faced with the stewardship of suffering, in the verdant wilderness of sorrow." - Karen Grant, Author and Homemaker
"I wish I could have known Elizabeth Prentiss and heard her speak of her love for the Lord. Yet, she still does speak to us today through her verse. How wonderful that God is still fulfilling her heart's desire to love Him more and more and more ... and we receive the benefits." - Martha Peace, Author of The Excellent Wife
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My Golden Hours
My golden hours! My golden hours!
O what and whence, are they?
Have they sprung up mid life's fair flowers,
Fruits of a sun lit day?
Have I sailed forth on prosperous seas,
Bound for the blessed land
Where I could take them at my ease,
From off a sparkling strand?
Not so! They grew mid brambles rude,
Sprang up mid briar and thorn,
Mid darkest nights, in solitude,
My golden hours were born.
On stormy seas the bark was lost
That sought these treasures rare;
I found them on a rock-bound coast;
I plucked them from despair.
Now God be praised, who briar and thorn
Strewed thickly on my way;
My pier-ced soul, all rent and torn,
Shall anthems sing for aye.
And blessed be His name, who walked
Upon life's troubled sea;
Whispered of His own peace, and talked
As a dear Friend to me.
For in my griefs and pains and sighs,
Mid chilling frosts and showers,
I won from my dear Lord the prize;
His golden, golden hours!