The Seven Days, or the Old and New Creation By the author of "The Cathedral" [i.e. Isaac Williams] |
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 | The Seven Days, or the Old and New Creation |  |
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Praise Him, ye Spirits that behold His face,
Thrones, Angel Powers with all your company,
Ye Heavens and Waters o'er the Heavenly place;
Praise Him, thou Sun, and shining Stars on high,
And thou, white Moon, walking the nightly sky,
And ye fair Clouds, and whitening Mists that sail,
And hang above your crystal canopy,
Or let fall glistening drops or snowy veil,
Or Heavens that lie around opening with lightning pale,—
Thrones, Angel Powers with all your company,
Ye Heavens and Waters o'er the Heavenly place;
Praise Him, thou Sun, and shining Stars on high,
And thou, white Moon, walking the nightly sky,
And ye fair Clouds, and whitening Mists that sail,
And hang above your crystal canopy,
Or let fall glistening drops or snowy veil,
Or Heavens that lie around opening with lightning pale,—
And lift your thunder voice, or hurrying fleet
From pole to pole: and ye too, Day and Night,
Cease not to speak His praise, in concert meet,
With darkness and returns of grateful light.
Let Earth to Heaven respond: thou mountain height
On mountain piled, ye Alps and Andes strong,
Which hide your heads in Heaven, and here in sight
Stretch adamantine arms, a giant throng,
Clothed with green robes below, and watery thundersong;—
From pole to pole: and ye too, Day and Night,
Cease not to speak His praise, in concert meet,
With darkness and returns of grateful light.
Let Earth to Heaven respond: thou mountain height
On mountain piled, ye Alps and Andes strong,
Which hide your heads in Heaven, and here in sight
Stretch adamantine arms, a giant throng,
Clothed with green robes below, and watery thundersong;—
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And thou, ne'er-slumbering Sea, His praise proclaim:
Fountains and Streams that murmur as ye flow,
Whisper through every land your Maker's Name;
Ye Birds that fill the air, and Fish below,
Beasts wild or gentle, wheresoe'er ye go
Fulfilling His commands, exalt His praise!
Man too with Priestly choirs and white-robed show
In beauteous temples lift your sounding lays;
And spirits of the Just your hallowed voices raise.
Fountains and Streams that murmur as ye flow,
Whisper through every land your Maker's Name;
Ye Birds that fill the air, and Fish below,
Beasts wild or gentle, wheresoe'er ye go
Fulfilling His commands, exalt His praise!
Man too with Priestly choirs and white-robed show
In beauteous temples lift your sounding lays;
And spirits of the Just your hallowed voices raise.
While happier Worlds in higher praise combine,
In reverend silence or harmonious sound,
Earth stilly on doth to her end decline
On her corporeal watch and silent round,
And with a voice that speaketh from the ground
Blends with her praise her prayers, and heard alone
From all her echoing caves, and haunts profound,
Sends forth of all our sins the piteous groan;
Hear Thou my prayer, O Lord; my days to Thee are known.
In reverend silence or harmonious sound,
Earth stilly on doth to her end decline
On her corporeal watch and silent round,
And with a voice that speaketh from the ground
Blends with her praise her prayers, and heard alone
From all her echoing caves, and haunts profound,
Sends forth of all our sins the piteous groan;
Hear Thou my prayer, O Lord; my days to Thee are known.
| The Seven Days, or the Old and New Creation | |