Classic Poem

O GOD , to thee, who first hast given,
To mortal frame this spark of heaven,
I consecrate my powers;
Thine is its hop'd eternity,
And thine its little life shall be,
Thro' months, and days, and hours.

Here, at thy shrine, I bow resign'd,
Each struggling passion of my mind,
With all its hopes and fears;
And here, to love and worship thee,
Is the sole wish my soul can see,
Thro' all my future years.

For, oh! when earthly cares are o'er,
The worn heart feels there is no more
Of bliss beneath the skies;
There is no other certain trust,
Which blends the merciful and just,
Omnipotent and wise.

O GOD , to thee, who first hast given,
To mortal frame this spark of heaven,
I consecrate my powers;
Thine is its hop'd eternity,
And thine its little life shall be,
Thro' months, and days, and hours.

Here, at thy shrine, I bow resign'd,
Each struggling passion of my mind,
With all its hopes and fears;
And here, to love and worship thee,
Is the sole wish my soul can see,
Thro' all my future years.

For, oh! when earthly cares are o'er,
The worn heart feels there is no more
Of bliss beneath the skies;
There is no other certain trust,
Which blends the merciful and just,
Omnipotent and wise.