The Works of the Late Aaron Hill ... In Four Volumes. Consisting of Letters on Various Subjects, And of Original Poems, Moral and Facetious. With An Essay on the Art of Acting |
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 | The Works of the Late Aaron Hill |  |
154
The CIVth Psalm.
I.
Let my exalted harp be doubly strung!High-tune thy praise, my soul! and let thy God be sung!
See! how around his throne the conscious rays
Shoot quiv'ring, with continuous curve, and tremble in their blaze!
See! what soul-shaking majesty, effulgent, he displays!
Cloath'd with embodied light, see! where he stands!
Pointing wide his dread commands!
As earth's dim flames, o'erwhelm'd by streaming day,
Beneath the sun-beams die away,
The sun, full met, with cover'd face, retires,
Burns inward, and rolls back his frighted fires!
Gracious, th' unequal eye of man to skreen!
See! where the maker kindly shades the too resplendent scene!
And, like a curtain, widely drawn, spreads out whole heaven, between.
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Look! where yon gathering host of clouds, he dreadfully bestrides!
And, aweful, on those self-roll'd chariots, rides!
He moves! he walks, upon the swift-wing'd wind!
He steps, from world to world, at once, and leaves even thought, behind!
II.
Myriads of hovering angels croud the God-grac'd scene to fill!Angels! fit heralds for th' almighty's will!
Ten thousand fiery light'nings sweep his way!
Nimble Couriers of his sway!
And, round his temples, hissing swift, in blue Mæanders, play!
The firm-fix'd balance of the self-poiz'd globe,
To neither byas, partial sway'd,
Became thus just, at his great word, and lastingly obey'd!
At his command, the covering deep, drew off the world's wet robe;
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But, peeping o'er the hills, reluctant staid;
Displeas'd with its new bounds, but more afraid,
Its old to re-invade!
E'en yet the stubborn-hearted flood, no more
High-licenc'd, as before,
Disdains to give its proud repinings o'er:
Oft, with bold murmurs, it alarms the shore,
And, now and then, with rebel rage, breaks out, in general roar!
But, when presumptuous billows swell, too high,
And sprinkle heaven's eternal eye:
Streight, all the thunders of God's voice, in loud resentment, rise;
The starting flood hears, shakes, and flies!
Down sinks the quash'd aspirer, from the skies,
And, hush'd, in humble flatness, lies!
Yet, if the sovereign will but nods, black oceans quit their bed!
Foamy, they lash each other on, with high discovering head!
And, curling, climb the steepy hills, and, o'er drown'd mountains spread!
Thence call'd again, again they rush! confessing God's controul!
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Tumble, for haste, o'er one another's heads!
And, sweeping with resistless breadth, o'er delug'd kingdoms roll!
Fierce, as they are, they're subject to his check!
They know th' appointed bounds, and watch th' imperious beck!
III.
From the huge treas'ry of the briny deep,Thro' thousand earth-form'd lab'rinths, taught to slide,
In search of springs, the salt-stript waters creep,
And trickling thence, into sweet rivers glide.
Smooth-travelling, to seek their mazy way!
And, devious, 'twixt th' enamour'd hills, slowly, delightful, stray;
These God appointed thus to flow, exhaustless, stores of drink,
Where every beast may quench his thirst, that seeks the smiling brink!
And, in the shady groves, which on their borders, rise!
He hous'd the warbling songsters of the skies!
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And, neighb'ring heaven, disdain the world, below,
Nor will, to humble brooks, refreshment owe,
He waters, with th' ætherial seas, or coronets of snow!
Amazing goodness! where's the smallest space!
That does not feel, and boast his grace?
For cattle's food, green flourishes, the flow'r-embroider'd mead:
For man's free use, is every fruit decreed:
For him, th' inspiring grape was taught to bleed;
Bread-bearing corn makes glad the labourer's toil;
And his rough skin grows supple, smooth'd with oil.
IV.
When, at fix'd times, up rolls the changeful moon,God shoots her shadowy gleam, thro' night's black noon!
Rapid, as is the ever-wheeling sun,
He dares not measure heaven, one thought, too soon?
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And licenc'd darkness rises o'er the world!
Then, does the gloomy forest quake!
And all th' assembled savage kind their holiday, then, make!
Leaf-trembling trees, in silent horror, shake!
And panting herds creep, terrified, away!
While the stern lion, hungry, roars, and stalks abroad, for prey!
God suffers him the needful prey to take!
And, then, new-wakes the day!
Out breaks the sun, and, to their dens, the beasts fly swift away!
Almighty power! how dost thou thought confound!
What human search can trace thy mazy round?
How wisely, and how vastly, Lord! are all thy wonders done!
Not earth, alone, does, with thy wealth, abound,
But all, above, and all beneath the sun!
V.
The sea's wild herds, as well as those, on land,Rough-moulded sons, too! of thy formful hand,
All live and move by thy command:
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There, wave-toss'd ships the op'ning depths defy!
And, circly, thro' th' imprison'd winds, their diff'rent courses ply!
There does Leviathan, wide-wallowing, lie:
And, while his broad, unweildy sports, the scaly people fly!
He, dreadful monster! sucks in seas, and spouts 'em, at the sky!
On thee, obedient, all thy creatures wait:
And, in due season, all, by thee, are fed,
Thy single bounty does their bliss create;
They gather, what thy op'ning hand has spread:
If thou but hid'st thy face, they fall away:
Thou tak'st their breath, and they decay;
At once, return to unform'd dust, and old paternal clay.
Again! thou dost but speak thy potent will!
And life, rekindling, glows within 'em, still!
Forever, shall thy glorious power endure!
The pillars of thy majesty stand steadfastly, and sure!
Approach'd by thee, the conscious mountains smoke;
And earth, dissolv'd, flows loose, beneath thy stroke!
| The Works of the Late Aaron Hill | |