Classic Poem

A Thanksgiving and Prayer for the Nation

From A Serious and Pathetical Contemplation of the Mercies of God


O Lord, the children of my people are Thy peculiar treasures,
Make them mine, O God, even while I have them,
My lovely companions, like Eve in Eden!
So much my treasure that all other wealth is without them
But dross and poverty.
Do they not adorn and beautify the World,
And gratify my Soul which hateth Solitude?
Thou, Lord, hast made Thy servant a sociable creature,
For which I praise Thy name;
A lover of company, a delighter in equals;
Replenish the inclination which Thyself hath implanted,
And give me eyes
To see the beauty of that life and comfort
Wherewith those by their actions
Inspire the nations.
Their Markets, Tillage, Courts of Judicature, Marriages, Feasts and Assemblies, Navies Armies, Priests and Sabbaths, Trades and Business, the voice of the Bridegroom, Musical Instruments, the light of Candles, and the grinding of Mills
Are comfortable. O Lord, let them not cease.
The riches of the land are all the materials of my felicity in their hands:
They are my Factors, Substitutes, and Stewards;
Second Selves, who by Trade and Business animate my wealth,
Which else would be dead and rust in my hands;
But when I consider, O Lord, how they come unto Thy temples, fill Thy Courts, and sing Thy praises,
O how wonderful they then appear!
What Stars,
Enflaming Suns,
Enlarging Seas
Of Divine Affection,
Confirming Patterns,
Infusing Influence,
Do I feel in these!
Who are the shining light
Of all the land (to my very soul):
Wings and Streams
Carrying me unto Thee,
The Sea of Goodness from whence they came.