Poems and Translations :: :: University of Virginia Library

O dread Jehovah! thy all-piercing Eyes
Explore the Motions of this mortal Frame,
This Tenement of Dust: Thy stretching Sight
Surveys th'harmonious Principles, that move
In beauteous Rank and Order, to inform
This Cask, and animated Mass of Clay.
Nor are the Prospects of thy wond'rous Sight
To this terrestrial part of Man confin'd;
But shoot into his Soul, and there discern
The first Materials of unfashion'd Thought,

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Yet dim and undigested, till the Mind,
Big with the tender Images, expands,
And swelling, labours with th'Ideal Birth.

Where-e'er I move, thy Cares pursue my Feet
Attendant. When I drink the Dews of Sleep,
Stretch'd on my downy Bed, and there enjoy
A sweet Forgetfulness of all my Toils,
Unseen, thy Sovereign Presence guards my Sleep,
Wafts all the Terrors of my Dreams away,
Sooths all my Soul, and softens my Repose.

Before Conception can employ the Tongue,
And mould the ductile Images to Sound;
Before Imagination stands display'd,
Thine Eye the future Eloquence can read,
Yet unarray'd with Speech. Thou, mighty Lord!
Hast moulded Man from his congenial Dust,

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And spoke him into Being; while the Clay,
Beneath thy forming Hand, leap'd forth, inspir'd,
And started into Life: thro' every Part,
At thy Command, the Wheels of Motion play'd.

But such exalted Knowledge leaves below
And drops poor Man from its superior Sphere.
In vain, with Reason's Ballast, would He try
To stem th'unfathomable Depth; his Bark
O'er-sets, and founders in the vast Abyss.

Then whither shall the rapid Fancy run,
Tho' in its full Career, to speed my Flight
From thy unbounded Presence? which, alone,
Fills all the Regions and extended Space
Beyond the Bounds of Nature! Whither, Lord!
Shall my unrein'd Imagination rove,
To leave behind thy Spirit, and out-fly

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Its Influence, which, with brooding Wings, out-spread
Hatch'd unfledg'd Nature from the dark Profound.

If mounted on my tow'ring Thoughts I climb
Into the Heav'n of Heav'ns; I there behold
The Blaze of thy unclouded Majesty!
In the pure Empyrean Thee I view,
High thron'd above all height, thy radiant Shrine,
Throng'd with the prostrate Seraphs, who receive
Beatitude past utt'rance! If I plunge
Down to the Gloom of Tartarus profound,
There too I find Thee, in the lowest Bounds
Of Erebus, and read Thee, in the Scenes
Of complicated Wrath: I see thee clad
In all the Majesty of Darkness there.

If, on the ruddy Morning's purple Wings
Up-born, with indefatigable Course,

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I seek the glowing Borders of the East,
Where the bright Sun, emergent from the Deeps,
With his first Glories gilds the sparkling Seas,
And trembles o'er the Waves; ev'n there, thy Hand
Shall thro' the watry Desart, guide my Course,
And o'er the broken Surges pave my Way,
While on the dreadful Whirles I hang secure,
And mock the warring Oceans. If, with Hopes,
As fond as false, the Darkness I expect
To hide, and wrap me in its mantling Shade,
Vain were the Thought; for thy unbounded Ken
Darts thro' the thickning Gloom, and pries thro' All
The palpable Obscure. Before thy Eyes,
The vanquish'd Night throws off her dusky Shrowd'
And kindles into Day: the Shade, and Light,
To Man still various, but the same to Thee.

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On Thee, is all the Structure of my Frame
Dependant. Lock'd within the silent Womb,
Sleeping I lay, and rip'ning to my Birth;
Yet, Lord! thy out-stretch'd Arm preserv'd me there;
Before I mov'd to Entity and trod
The Verge of Being. To thy hallow'd Name
I'll pay due Honours: for thy mighty Hand
Built this Corporeal Fabrick, when it laid
The Ground-work of Existence. Hence, I read
The Wonders of thy Art. This Frame I view
With Terror and Delight; and wrapt in both,
I startle at myself. My Bones, unform'd
As yet, nor hard'ning from the viscous parts,
But blended with th'unanimated Mass,
Thy Eye distinctly view'd; and, while I lay
Within the Earth, imperfect, nor perceiv'd

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The first faint Dawn of Life, with ease survey'd
The vital Glimm'rings of the active Seeds,
Just kindling to Existence; and beheld
My Substance scarce Material. In thy Book,
Was the fair Model of this Structure drawn,
Where every Part, in just Connection join'd,
Compos'd and perfected th'harmonious Piece,
E'er the dim Speck of Being learn'd to stretch
Its ductile Form, or Entity had known
To range and wanton in an ampler Space.

How dear, how rooted in my inmost Soul,
Are all thy Counsels, and the various Ways
Of Thy Eternal Providence! The Sum
So boundless and immense, it leaves behind
The low Account of Numbers; and out-flies
All that Imagination e'er conceiv'd,

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Less numerous are the Sands that crowd the Shores,
The Barriers of the Ocean. When I rise
From my soft Bed, and softer Joys of Sleep,
I rise to Thee. Yet lo! the Impious slight
Thy mighty Wonders. Shall the Sons of Vice
Elude the Vengeance of thy wrathful Hand,
And mock thy ling'ring Thunder, which with-holds
Its forky Terrors from their guilty Heads?
Thou great tremendous God!—Avaunt and fly
All ye who thirst for Blood.—For, swoln with Pride,
Each haughty Wretch blasphemes thy sacred Name,
And bellows his Reproaches to affront
Thy glorious Majesty. Thy Foes I hate
Worse than my own, O Lord: explore my Soul,
See if a Flaw or Stain of Sin infects
My guilty Thoughts. Then, lead me in the Way
That guides my Feet to thy own Heav'n and Thee.