 | Poems on Several Occasions |  |
148
The 148th PSALM Paraphras'd.
I
To Him who dwells in purest light,Above the empyrean height,
Awake the voice of praise:
Ye sacred ministers of god,
Ye angels who confess his nod,
Your adoration raise!
II
Praise him, thou sun, whose vivid raySuccessive, beaming new-born day,
The horrent gloom relieves!
Praise him, thou silver queen of night!
Praise him, ye twinkling stars! whose light
His sphere of glory gives.
III
Praise him, ye argent fields of air,Ye heav'ns of bright perfection, where
He sheds the dews of love;
149
Oh, bear it as ye stream away,
Or gush from founts above!
IV
His eye the night-ful void survey'd;He spake the word, and ye were made;
He saw, and he approv'd:
His law that prompts, protects your reign,
His law that shall unbroke remain,
'Till All shall be remov'd.
V
Ye savage race, who roam for prey,To him your aweful homage pay,
In forests, wilds, or steeps;
Ye dragons fierce, revere your god,
Bow couchant in your rude abode,
And praise him, all ye deeps.
VI
Fire, hail, and snow, whose pow'rs fulfillThe missions of his mighty will,
150
Ye vapours, that condensing rise,
Ye winds and storms, that rend the skies,
Praise your creating lord.
VII
Praise him ye mounts of loftier shoot,Ye lowly hills, ye trees of fruit,
And cedars stately high;
Praise him ye herds, and insects small;
Ye humbler feather'd kind, and all
Ye warblers of the sky.
VIII
Ye monarchs, delegates of heav'n,Praise him by whom your pow'r was giv'n,
Who props the regal throne;
Ye subjects breathe his praises forth;
Ye princes, judges, o'er the earth,
Oh, make his wonders known!
151
IX
Ye youths, while brisk the vital tide,Ye virgins, gay in blooming pride,
His glorious deeds proclaim;
Let age exert the pious lay,
And sooth the suckling's soft essay,
To lisp it maker's name.
X
Above the earth, or vaulted sky,Beyond the firmament most high,
Let soul-breath'd incense rise;
He shall his grateful tribe regard,
He shall with endless bliss reward,
The just, the good, the wise.
XI
For this all his saints prolongTh'enrapt'ring heav'n-ascending song,
'Till time shall be no more:
152
For this all worlds in chorus join;
All tremble, and adore.
| Poems on Several Occasions | |