Classic Poem

GOD.

O COULD I sweep the lyre, like Israel's King,
And with his voice in lofty numbers sing;
No far-fam'd hero should inspire my strain,
Nor fabled Jove the mighty verse sustain.
Thy acts, Jehovah, be my song's high story,
Thy peerless name, and thy unbounded glory.

Sole unbegotten independent Pow'r,
Years are but moments, ages but an hour
To thee: Ere time had started from his goal,
Thy essence was: When time shall cease to roll
His flaming orbs, thy essence, still abiding,
Defies decay; in its own strength confiding.

Vast source of being, at thy potent word
Creation's wonders rose, and hail'd thee Lord.
The changing moon and the all-fost'ring sun
Their functions know, and in thy circles run.
Earth her appointed station holds: While Ocean,
Aw'd by thy limits, curbs his wild commotion.

Great Sultan, Majesty Supreme, what awe
Surrounds thy throne and guards thy holy law!
Thy law is holy; to the rebel, woe:
Thy law is good; what peace the duteous know!
Celestial worlds obey; in bliss abounding:
Thou Earth, obey; his seat with odes surrounding.

Father of men, thy love what measures bound?
Whose fulness overflows this sinning ground:
Thy clouds effuse their alms, the fountains flow,
The fields rejoice, the trees with fruitage glow.
But man, thy image in his soul sustaining,
Lives on thy bounty thankless and complaining.

Where shall the wicked flee? What darkness shade
Guilt, from those eyes whose beams the soul pervade?
Where can the righteous weep, from thee conceal'd,
Thy ear not hearing, nor thy arm reveal'd?
Mysterious Presence! all thy works exploring:
Knowledge sublime! above all finite soaring.