A memorial volume of sacred poetry by the late Sir John Bowring. To which is prefixed, a memoir of the author, by Lady Bowring |
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God always nigh.
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 | A memorial volume of sacred poetry |  |
185
God always nigh.
Our God is nigh;
He watches all we think or do:
Rolls o'er all time His penetrating eye,
And tracks the round our steps pursue.
He watches all we think or do:
Rolls o'er all time His penetrating eye,
And tracks the round our steps pursue.
By night, by day,
Waking or sleeping—o'er the sea,
Up to the heaven—where'er thou take thy way,
Down to the grave—He follows thee.
Waking or sleeping—o'er the sea,
Up to the heaven—where'er thou take thy way,
Down to the grave—He follows thee.
Thou canst not hide
From Him thy weakness or thy strength;
His guardian angel tarries at thy side,
And guides thee to thy home at length.
From Him thy weakness or thy strength;
His guardian angel tarries at thy side,
And guides thee to thy home at length.
The joys, the cares
Which crowd our earthly being here,
He portions in His wisdom, and forbears
When heavier than our strength can bear.
Which crowd our earthly being here,
He portions in His wisdom, and forbears
When heavier than our strength can bear.
All we possess
Is His—and all we hope for, His;
Pilgrims of earth, His holy name we bless,
And look to Heaven for peace and bliss.
Is His—and all we hope for, His;
Pilgrims of earth, His holy name we bless,
And look to Heaven for peace and bliss.
| A memorial volume of sacred poetry | |