Thy essence fills this breathing frame,
It glows in ev'ry conscious part;
Lights up my soul with livelier flame,
And feeds with life my beating heart;
Unfelt along my veins it glides
Thee, mighty God, my wondering soul,
Thee, all her conscious powers adore ;
Whose being circumscribes the whole,
Whose eyes its utmost bounds explore :
Alike illum'd by nature's light,
And through their mazes rolls the purple Amid the sun's full blaze or gloom of night tides.
DWELLER in heaven, and ruler below!
Fain would I know thee, yet tremble to know!
How can a mortal deem how it may be,
That being cannot be, but present with thee?
Is it true that thou saw'st me ere I saw the morn?
Is it true that thou knew'st me before I was born?
That nature must live in the light of thine eye?
This knowledge for me is too great and too high !
That fly I to noon-day, or fly I to night,
To shroud me in darkness, or bathe me in light,
The light and the darkness to thee are the same,
And still in thy presence of wonder I am!
Should I with the dove to the desert repair,
Or dwell with the eagle in clough of the air;
In the desert afar, on the mountains wild brink,
From the eye of Omnipotence still I must shrink.
Or mount I on wings of the morning away
To caves of the ocean unseen by the day,
And hide in the uttermost parts of the sea,
Even there to be living and moving in thee?
Nay, scale I the cloud in the heavens to dwell;
Or make I my bed in the shadows of hell;
Can science expound, or humanity frame,
That still thou art present, and all are the same.
Yes! present for ever! Almighty-alone,
Great Spirit of Nature, unbounded, unknown!
What mind can embody thy presence divine?
I know not my own being! how can I thine?
Then humbly and low in the dust let me bend,
And adore what on earth I can ne'er comprehend;
The mountains may melt, and the elements flee,
Yet an universe still be rejoicing in thee!
GOD VISIBLE IN HIS WORKS.
THOU art, O God, the life and light,
Of all this wondrous world we see;
Its glow by day, its smile by night,
Are but reflections caught from thee!
Where'er we turn, thy glories shine,
And all things fair and bright are thine.
When day, with farewell beam delays, Among the op'ning clouds of even, And we can almost think we gaze
Through golden vistas into heaven; Those hues that mark the sun's decline, So soft, so radiant, Lord, are thine.
When night, with wings of stormy gloom,
O'ershadows all the earth and skies,
Like some dark beauteous bird, whose plume
Is sparkling with a thousand eyes,
That sacred gloom, those fires divine,
So grand, so countless, Lord, are thine.
When youthful spring around us breathes,
Thy Spirit warms her fragrant sigh;
And every flow'r the summer wreathes,
Is born beneath that kindling eye:
Where'er we turn, thy glories shine,
And all things fair and bright are thine.
ABOVE-below-where'er I gaze,
Thy guiding finger Lord, I view,
Traced in the midnight planets' blaze,
Or glistening in the morning dew;
Whate'er is beautiful or fair,
Is but thine own reflection there.
I hear thee in the stormy wind,
That turns the ocean wave to foam;
Nor less thy wondrous power I find,
When summer airs around me roam;
The tempest and the calm declare
Thyself,-for thou art every where.
find thee in the noon of night, And read thy name in every star
That drinks its splendor from the light That flows from mercy's beaming car: Thy footstool Lord each starry gem Composes-not thy diadem.
And when the radiant orb of light
Hath tipp'd the mountain tops with gold,
Smote with the blaze my weary sight
Shrinks from the wonders I behold;
That ray of glory bright and fair,
Is but thy living shadow there.
Thine is the silent noon of night,
The twilight, eve-the dewy morn;
Whate'er is beautiful and bright,
Thine hands have fashioned to adorn:
Thy glory walks in every sphere,
And all things whisper, "God is here!"
My God, all nature owns thy sway;
Thou giv'st the night, and thou the day;
When all thy lov'd creation wakes,
When morning rich in lustre breaks,
And bathes in dew the op'ning flower,
To thee we owe her fragrant hour;
And, when she pours her choral song,
Her melodies to thee belong!
Or when, in paler tints array'd,
The evening slowly spreads her shade;
That soothing shade, that grateful gloom,
Can, more than day's enliv'ning bloom,
Still ev'ry fond and vain desire,
And calmer, purer thoughts inspire;
From earth the pensive spirit free,
And lead the soften'd heart to thee.
In every scene thy hands have dress'd,
In every form by thee impress'd,
Upon the mountain's awful head,
Or where the shelt'ring woods are spread';
In every note that swells the gale,
Or tuneful stream that cheers the vale,
The cavern's depth or echoing grove,-
A voice is heard of praise and love.
As o'er thy works the seasons roll,
And soothe, with change of bliss, the soul,
Oh never may their smiling train
Pass o'er the human soul in vain!
But oft, as on their charms we gaze,
Attune their wond'ring soul to praise;
And be the joys that most we prize,
The joys that from thy favour rise.
'Tis Love that loads the plenteous plain, With blushing fruits and golden grain, And smiles o'er ev'ry vale.
But, in thy gospel, it appears
In sweeter, fairer characters,
And charms the ravish'd breast;
There, Love immortal leaves the sky
To wipe the drooping mourner's eye,
And give the weary rest.
There smiles a kind propitious God
WHENE'ER we climb the mountain's head, There flows a dying Saviour's blood,
Lost were the peacock's plumage; to the sight | The eye's at fault, and seeks th' assisting
So pleasing in its pomp and glossy glow.
O thrice-illustrious! were it not for Thee,
Those pansies, that reclining from the bank,
View thro' th' immaculate pellucid stream
Their portraiture in the inverted heaven,
Might as well change their triple boast, the
white,
The purple, and the gold, that far outvie
Approach and bring from Araby the blest,
The fragrant cassia, frankincense, and myrrh,
And, meekly kneeling at the altar's foot,
Lay all the tributary incense down.
Stoop, feeble Africa, with rev'rence stoop,
And from thy brow take off the painted
plume;
The eastern monarchs' garb, ev'n with the
dock,
Ev'n with the baleful hemlock's irksome Reverted, and thy trusty bow unstrung,
With golden ingots all thy camels load
T' adorn his temples, hasten with thy spear
While unpursued thy lions roam and roar,
Without thy aid, without thy gladsome And ruin'd tow'rs, rude rocks, and caverns beams,
The tribes of woodland warblers would
Mute on the bending branches, nor recite The praise of him, who, ere he formed their lord,
Their voices tuned to transport, wing'd their flight,
And bade them call for nurture, and receive:
And lo! they call; the blackbird, and the
thrush,
The woodlark, and the redbreast jointly call;
He hears, and feeds their feather'd families;
He feeds his sweet musicians;-nor neglects
The invoking ravens in the greenwood wide;
And tho' their throats coarse rattling hurt
They mean it all for music, thanks and praise To him who feeds, who clothes, and who adorns,
Remurmur to the glorious, surly sound. And thou, fair India, whose immense domain
To counterpoise the hemisphere extends, Haste from the West, and with thy fruits and flowers,
Thy mines and med'cines, wealthy maid
attend.
More than the plenteousness so fam'd to flow
By fabling bards from Amalthea's horn
Is thine; thine therefore be a portion due
Of thanks and praise: come with thy bril-
liant crown
And vest of fur; and from thy fragrant lap
Pomegranates and the rich ananas pour.
But chiefly thou Europa, seat of Grace
And Christian excellence, his goodness own.
Forth from ten thousand temples pour his
praise.
Who made and who preserves, whatever Clad in the armour of the living God,
dwells
In air, in stedfast earth, or fickle sea.
O He is good, He is immensely good!
Who all things form'd, and form'd them all
Who mark'd the climates, varied every zone,
Dispensing all his blessings for the best,
In order and in beauty: rise, attend,
Arrest, and praise, ye quarters of the world!
Bow down, ye elephants, submissive bow
To him who made the mite! Tho', Asia's
pride,
Ye carry armies on your tower-crown'd
backs,
And grace the turban'd tyrants, bow to Him
Who is as great, as perfect, and as good
In his less striking wonders, till at length
Approach, unsheath the Spirit's flaming sword;
Faith's shield, salvation's glory-compass'd
helm
With fortitude assume, and o'er your heart
Fair truth's invulnerable breast-plate spread;
Then join the general chorus of all worlds,
And let the song of charity begin
In strains seraphic, and melodious prayer:
"O all-sufficient, all-beneficent,
"Thou God of goodness, and of glory, hear!
"Thou, who to lowest minds dost conde-
scend,
"Assuming passions to enforce thy laws,
"Adopting jealousy to prove thy love :
"Thou who resign'd humility uphold'st
"Even as the florist props the drooping rose,
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