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| O GOD, whose thunder shakes the sky, | |
| Whose eye this atom globe surveys, | |
| To thee, my only rock, I fly, | |
| Thy mercy in thy justice praise. | |
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| The mystic mazes of thy will, | 5 |
| The shadows of celestial light, | |
| Are past the power of human skill; | |
| But what the Eternal acts is right. | |
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| Oh, teach me in the trying hour, | |
| When anguish swells the dewy tear, | 10 |
| To still my sorrows, own my power, | |
| Thy goodness love, thy justice fear. | |
| |
| If in this bosom aught but thee | |
| Encroaching sought a boundless sway, | |
| Omniscience could the danger see, | 15 |
| And Mercy look the cause away. | |
| |
| Then why, my soul, dost thou complain, | |
| Why drooping seek the dark recess? | |
| Shake off the melancholy chain, | |
| For God created all to bless. | 20 |
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| But ah! my breast is human still; | |
| The rising sigh, the falling tear, | |
| My languid vitals’ feeble rill, | |
| The sickness of my soul declare. | |
| |
| But yet, with fortitude resigned, | 25 |
| I ’ll thank the inflicter of the blow; | |
| Forbid the sigh, compose my mind, | |
| Nor let the gush of misery flow. | |
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| The gloomy mantle of the night, | |
| Which on my sinking spirit steals, | 30 |
| Will vanish at the morning light, | |
| Which God, my east, my sun, reveals. | |
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