 | Poems : medley and Palestina |  |
136
The Divine.
On dizzy altitudes he stands;
Dominions glitter in His hands;
His terrors march in awful bands.
Dominions glitter in His hands;
His terrors march in awful bands.
Who knoweth how to count His hosts?
His mornings shine on all the coasts;
His glances pierce the realm of ghosts.
His mornings shine on all the coasts;
His glances pierce the realm of ghosts.
He looks upon the moon as dim;
In vain the starry oceans brim;
They seem but darkling voids to Him.
In vain the starry oceans brim;
They seem but darkling voids to Him.
How then should man, the child of dust,
Lift Edenward a brow of trust
Or vaunt himself as pure and just?
Lift Edenward a brow of trust
Or vaunt himself as pure and just?
His worth is vile, his strength infirm;
He carries death within the germ;
Behold, he seemeth but a worm.
He carries death within the germ;
Behold, he seemeth but a worm.
| Poems : medley and Palestina | |