Lord, to thy awful words intent,
I see they brightly shine,
With marks of pow'r omnipotent,
And majesty divine.

Convinc'd by thy enlight'ning speech,
I rashly have, I own,
By climbing heights above my reach,
Audacious folly shown;

Vent'ring, by reason reasonless,
That short unequal line,
To sound the huge immense abyss,
Of providence divine.

That thou, Lord, canst do everything
I now more clearly see;
None can from thee hide their design,
Nor hinder thy decree.

In things too wonderful for me,
And utterly unknown,
I speak but unadvisedly,
And foolishly I own.

I'm that presumptuous mortal bold,
That darken'd counsel so,
By words unwise, as I was told,
My pride to overthrow.

Thy deep designs in trying me
My blind eyes could not spy;
Whence I presum'd to quarrel thee,
So great a fool was I.

O let thine anger be appeas'd!
Hear my repentant speech;
Through him in whom thou art well pleas'd,
Thy favour I beseech.

Of knowledge I will boast no more,
Nor haughtily behave,
But silently thy name adore
Thy information crave.

Lord, scatter clouds that mar my sight,
Thy truth divine display;
Dispel remaining shades of night,
And spread my mind with day.