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 I. 
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O Thou great Arbiter of Life and Death!
Nature's immortal, immaterial Sun!
Whose all-prolific beam late call'd me forth
From darkness, teeming darkness, where I lay
The worm's inferior, and, in rank, beneath
The dust I tread on; high to bear my brow,
To drink the spirit of the golden day,
And triumph in existence; and couldst know
No motive but my bliss; and hast ordain'd
A rise in blessing!—with the patriarch's joy,
Thy call I follow to the land unknown;
I trust in Thee, and know in whom I trust:
Or life, or death, is equal; neither weighs;
All weight in this—O let me live to Thee!