University of Virginia Library

Say, Lord, why thus thy aiding pow'r
Deserts us in the needful hour,
Why clouds impervious, round thee roll'd,
Thy presence from our sight withhold.
Shall impious men escape thy view,
While thus the guiltless they pursue?
O let them, by themselves chastis'd,
The ills sustain for Him devis'd,
Nor longer boast their mad desires,
And acts which headlong rage inspires,
Or joyous grasp their lawless gain,
And Thee, the soul's best wealth, disdain.
Proud Wretch! who shuns o'er Nature's face
The footsteps of thy care to trace,
And Thee, th' all-potent Monarch, Thee
Denies, who gav'st himself to be.
Behold, while, high above all height,
Thy Judgements, Lord, his distant sight
Elude, this Minister of woe
Blast with his breath each obvious foe.
“See, proof to each assault I stand:
“What pow'r shall e'er my fear demand?
“What Ill, to life's remotest day,
“Obstruct the tenour of my way?”
Thus, swoln with insolence and pride,
His self-deluding heart has cried:
His venom'd lips, with curses fraught,
Words ill according to his thought
Have utter'd, and beneath his tongue
Lurk fraud, and violence, and wrong.
Beside the solitary way,
Intent the helpless poor to stay,
He waits, and with malignant eye
Insidious marks each passer by.
As, couch'd within his bushy lair,
The lion fierce with hideous glare
Around him casts his wide survey,
And meditates the future prey,
So longs the man of blood to seize
The Souls that own thy just Decrees:
If, planted with successful care,
His nets their captive feet insnare,
Ah! what his fury shall withstand,
Or save them from the murth'rous Band,
That, leagu'd in sin, assist his toil,
And share with him the guilty spoil?
“Shall Heav'n's high Lord, he cries, descend
“The human actions to attend?
“The paths by Me at will pursu'd
“His mem'ry and his thought elude.”
Rise, mightiest Lord, and lift thy hand,
Nor let the poor thy help demand
With fruitless pray'r: for why, (ah, why?)
Should impious tongues reproachful cry,
“'Tis not within th' Almighty's plan
“To scrutinize the acts of Man?”

What eyes, like thine, eternal Sire,
Through sin's obscurest depths inquire?
What Judge, like Thee, on Virtue's foes
The needful vengeance can impose?
The meek observer of thy Laws
To Thee commits his injur'd cause;
In Thee, each anxious fear resign'd,
The fatherless a Father find.
O, break the arm of impious might;
So shall their threats no more excite
Our dread, nor thy offended eye
The triumphs of their guilt descry.

Thine is the throne: Beneath thy reign,
Immortal King! the tribes profane
Behold their dreams of conquest o'er,
And vanish to be seen no more.
Thou, Lord, thy People's wish canst read,
E'er from their lips the pray'r proceed;
'Tis thine their drooping hearts to rear,
Bow to their wants th' attentive ear,
The weeping Orphan's cheek to dry,
The guiltless Suff'rer's cause to try,
To rein each earthborn Tyrant's will,
And bid the Sons of pride be still.