Classic Poem

Jehovah, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,
Sole Monarch of the universal host,
Whom the attendant armies still revere,
Which in bright robes surround the higher sphere;
Whose sov'reign empire sways the hellish band
Of ranked legions in th' infernal land;
Who hold'st the earth at thy unrivall'd beck,
And stay'st proud forces with a humble check;
Ev'n thou whose name commands an awful dread,
Yet deigns to dwell with man in very deed:
O what refreshment fills the dwelling-place
Of thine exuberant unbounded grace!
Which with sweet pow'r does joy and praise extort,
In Zion's tents, thine ever-lov'd resort;
Where glad'ning streams of mercy from above
Make souls brimful of warm seraphic love.
Of sweetest odours all thy garments smells;
Thy dismal absence proves a thousand hells,
But heav'ns of joys are where thine honour dwells.