GREATEST of beings, Source of life, But man was formed to rise to heaven, And blessed with reason's clearer light, He views his Maker through his works, And glows with rapture at the sight. Nor can the thousand songs that rise, Or raise such sacred harmony. Greatest of beings, Source of life, NOT in the solitude Alone may man commune with heaven; or see Only in savage wood And sunny vale the present Deity; Or only hear his voice Where the winds whisper and the waves rejoice. Even here do I behold Thy steps, Almighty!-here amidst the crowd Through the great city rolled, With everlasting murmur, deep and loud, Choking the ways that wind 'Mongst the proud piles, the work of human kind. Thy golden sunshine comes From the round heaven, and on their dwelling lies, And lights their inner homes; For them thou fillest the air, the unbounded skies, And givest them the stores Of ocean, and the harvest of its shores. Thy spirit is around, Quickening the restless mass that sweeps along ; And this eternal sound, Voices and footfalls of the numberless throng, Like the surrounding sea, Or like the rainy tempest, speaks of thee. And when the hour of rest Comes like a calm upon the mid-sea brine, Hushing its billowy breast The quiet of that moment too is thine: It breathes of Him who keeps The vast and helpless city while it sleeps. XIV. Now pray we for our country, XV. O GIVE thanks unto the Lord, For he is gracious, And his mercy endureth for ever! GIVE to our God immortal praise; Give to the Lord of lords renown; When lords and kings are known no more. He built the earth, he spread the sky, He fills the sun with morning light; When sun and moon shall shine no more. XVII. GIVE thanks to God, the heavenly King, Let the whole earth his praises sing, THOU who, upon th' eternal throne, Dost weigh the fates of all below, And ever wear'st the radiant crown Of worlds unnumbered round thy brow: Thy wisdom formed the plan sublime Of what man's future course shall be; The path didst shew which I must climb To reach my final destiny. Till then let power divine protect, Till I before thy face appear. To ripen for eternity, O let it to perfection grow, Then take thy pilgrim home to thee. XIX. To God on high be thanks and praise, |