The Infinite.
I
Some seraph, lend your heav'nly tongue,
Or harp of golden string,
That I may raise a lofty song
To our eternal King.
II
Thy names, how infinite they be!
Great Everlasting One!
Boundless thy might and majesty,
And unconfin'd thy throne.
III
Thy glories shine of wondrous size,
And wondrous large thy grace;
Immortal day breaks from thine eyes,
And Gabriel veils his face.
IV
Thine essence is a vast abyss,
Which angels cannot sound,
An ocean of infinities
Where all our thoughts are drown'd.
V
The mysteries of creation lie
Beneath enlighten'd minds,
Thoughts can ascend above the sky,
And fly before the winds.
VI
Reason may grasp the massy hills
And stretch from pole to pole,
But half thy name our spirit fills,
And overloads our soul.
VII
In vain our haughty reason swells,
For nothing's found in Thee
But boundless inconceivables,
And vast eternity.
