University of Virginia Library

He ended here, and both awhile were still,
As troubled by perplexing thoughts. At last,
With eyes upraised, she spake—“Our time is this:
“The seventy years that Judah should fulfil
“In bondage unredeemed have passed away—
“And earth has kept its sabbaths. Wrath holds fast
“On sin through generations—Moab's hiss?
“Hath joined with Ammon's mockery—loud were they!
“The strong may bruise us yet, the proud deride—
“God could remember all his threats—and will
“The curse foretold beyond its years abide?
“His terrors still endure—his love alone decay!”

“O peace! beware!”—the offended Elder cried—
“Impute not evil to the Lord! repent,
“That grief provokes distrustfulness! Is he
“Averse from mercy—heedless while we pray—
“Or less inclined toward grace than punishment?
“Alas, Ailona! ill-ruled thoughts are these!
“His eye regards our weakness though we stray;
“He marks the contrite tears and loosened knees—
“Else woe to words like thine—and fools so rash as we!
“Who shall reproach or limit him? The plain
“Where front to front earth's angry nations stood
“So late, with all their kings, may hide its blood,
“And soon confound the traces of the slain:
“Where Median Cyrus heard his trumpets blow
“An early salutation due at morn—
“O'er vacant fields Bel's wandering steers may low,
“And songs delight its village hinds again—
“The lover's lute resound, or peaceful shepherd's horn!
“Ourselves change most—yea, all things change below—
“Strength, wisdom, beauty, grandeur, riches, fame:
“There is but One immutable—whose will
“Stands unreversed and unperverted—still
“Above man's thought, yet softening toward his prayer:
“Part of that will it is which hearkens thus—
“Free, yet by love's necessity the same—
“Most stedfast when the most inclined to us—
“Truth never stoops, and wisdom cannot err!
“These, if we mark or not, their task fulfil,
“And go right on.

“O shame upon the old!
“Whom gain hath taught to tarry patiently—
“Not faith or humble peace from God—but gold
“And foul usurious traffic! Such as cry,
“‘Behold a fruitful land—a wholesome clime—
“‘With means enough to live! These walls deride
“‘The wrath of armies or the waste of time!
“‘Will Media drink the ancient river dry
“‘To search their deep foundations? will she climb
“‘The thousand towers above them?—Tell her pride,
“‘Beyond the arrows flight they rise, and far
“‘Their needless bulk remote from injury
“‘Stands solid in its structure, lofty, wide,
“‘With waste of strength—for wonder more than war—
“‘Sufficient in itself—secure unfortified,
“‘If Cyrus, midst the plain, with all his host
“‘Drawn forth to battle.’ This since eve they say—
“‘Fought till the darkness, nor could then prevail,
“‘Prolonging dubious strife with greater cost:
“‘If he have seen no weakness—no dismay—
“‘No flight before him—only mutual wounds,
“‘And more than equal slaughter—will he scale
“‘The city's gates?—their bars were loosed to-day,
“‘Belshazzar went to seek him.’ Louder sounds
“The ill-omened tongue at such a time: we hear
“Of straitness in the Median tents, and dearth
“Which grows amain; while prescient wisdom here
“Hath gathered plenty from the lavish earth,
“Hoarding its fruits for years—heaped garners high
“With corn, and wine, and oil,—till every street
“Throughout the whole is filled with strength and bread.
“‘Israel’—they say—‘is sinful, stubborn yet—
“‘God, ill-approached by clamorous misery
“‘Which will not wait, abhors the hands we spread,
“‘Polluted as they are, and turns his face
“‘From what we suffer—justly to defer
“‘The promise that he made us, or abase
“‘The proud who claim unthankfully!’—They err,
“Scattering distrustful thoughts midst cautious words,
“And numbering worse men's sins to hide their own.
“Self-blinded hypocrites are these!—Of old,
“Waters perchance as deep have dried elsewhere;
“Bulwarks as safe have fallen; by spears or swords
“Untouched, proud hosts have perished! Let them groan
“As if his arm were short whose flock we are—
“A remnant saved shall rest within their fold;
“Truth cannot lie—and victory is the Lord's.”

Rising he spoke—nor aught returned the maid
Rebuked and meekly humbled: both went forth,
To listen if now the city's tumult laid,
There might be space ere daylight for repose.
Lo! eight slant lines of light divide the north,
Whence distant bellowings riot to their ears—
Oblique, yet pointing equally, in rows,
Eight arrowy streaks of trembling fire arise:
Each less in length than that beneath, uprears
Its western end, still narrowing as it goes—
Aspiring and ascending each appears,
The first to rest on earth, the last to pierce the skies.

Yet higher than even the highest, and brighter glows
A crown, for such the sparkling summit wears,
Like all heaven's stars collected:—from her eyes
Some mournful drops the wondering virgin clears;
O'er walls, and through the cedar-branches, he
In conscious haste uplifts his sight, and cries,
“We see their flames—but not the tower accurst—
“Yet, Lord! thine anger sleeps—no lightening stirs!
“That mountain height threats heaven and wars with thee!
“They toil to tempt their Maker as at first,
“Now worse—since warned! Bel's drunken worshippers
“Gird with their fires his temple eight times round,
“Stage after stage, long journeying up the side,
“O'er those broad pathways which our eyes discern
“So plain by day—and carry from the ground
“Lamps, cressets, torches toward thy throne defied.
“Alas, how long!—would the huge bulk might burn!
“Haste—let us hence.”

The virgin turned once more,
Trimmed her neglected lamp, then smoothly spread
The couch beneath him, placed the table near,
Poured water for his hands, and strewed the floor
With leaves and myrtle-blossoms. Next unleavened bread
In rush-wove baskets brought she—of the year
Figs, dates, nuts, almonds—honey too, and wine
Drawn from their homely flasks, she set before—
And would, so used, have added to his cheer
The smile which sweetens food—but in its stead,
Grief, mastering will, dispersed the transient sign
Of peace, and tears burst forth. Perplexed, he gazed;
So one whose thoughts are earlier than the day,
Intent abroad, looks wistful from his shed,
And sees the watery dawn a moment shine—
Yet scarce a moment—round the mountain's head;
O'er eastern woods the dusky veil upraised,
And purer skies behind their edges gray—
Then girds his loins in hope, and speeds along:
But soon those rosy streaks are hidden again,
Mists climb about the mountain's side—the gale
Is white with sleet—ill-perched on restless spray
The drooping bird breaks off her early song—
More chill the wind, more sharply beats the rain,
And swifter torrents riot through the vale

The Elder's heart beat heavily—“A curse
“Seems strong against our peace to-night,”—he cried—
“Grief grows and generates grief; impatient pain
“Augments itself; ill thoughts recoil on worse,
“As dread runs back toward danger. Weak and old,
“Yet still so rash!—what part have I with pride!
“If folly rave thus loud, God hears above,
“And can rebuke, by wiser lips, the bold:
“Why should I fret my soul at sin, and bear
“The daily burden of unkindness home,
“Provoking tears, and wearying what I love!
“Forgive me, child!—it is a night of fear
“To both—and both spake heedlessly—but come,
“Sit down by me and eat.” The patient maid
Who caused his sighs, seemed angry with her own,
So hard to rule by force, or hide at will:
His calmer brow she kissed, then meekly said—
“In solitude, or worse—for not alone,
“Nor without cause to fear—I watched since eve,
“Perplexed as thou by presages of ill
“At once, and ill indeed. My spirit to-day
“Has toiled, as do the sick, or they that grieve
“Midst wastes or forests, in dreams, by difficult ways
“Treading the sand knee-deep—compelled to stray
“Unwaked till morn and daylight come.” Amaze
Seemed rather through his eyes than lips, to say,
—If not alone, how else?—“Beyond the gate”—
With voice abated yet, the maid replied—
“When thou didst part, I stood a space, to gaze;
“And ere I closed it, tarried on the sill:
“Whether its bars were fast or not, the thought
“Has fled from that which followed—but I sat
“Self-tasked till eve—for endless, as it seemed,
“—Delayed, resumed, neglected, cast aside,
“As if time's lapse unravell'd what I wrought—
“That sabbath robe was left to shame me still.
“At length the work sped swiftly, and toil so light
“Bred light thoughts too, while prosperous fancy dreamed
“I scarce know what, in furtherance of my pains—
“Truth, fable, both, with old and half-sung rhymes:
“Such voluntary labour earns delight,
“If nothing else—remitted and resumed,
“Those songs delayed me not. Our holier strains
“And royal prophesies were mixed at times;
“Others of later grief—God's house consumed,
“Himself renouncing it—the lion's might
“Subdued, and Judah patient in his chains!
“One taught me by thyself I sang at last,
“But still by starts imperfectly—the same
“Which tells thy father's triumphs ere he died,
“When mailed in giant arms, with lighted brand,
“That red Chaldæan, Bel's prime sorcerer came,
“First through God's courts blaspheming, while the blast
“Of heathen trumpets filled them, and the flame
“Uprose o'er all—even in his might and pride,
“Azaiel smote him—though his own right hand
“Waxed feeble then, and death was o'er his eyes.

“Midst this, which most seems ours of all our melodies,
“The door closed softly, as if entering here
“Stood one intent to hearken—like the old
“With feet dragged slow. My face meanwhile was bent
“On labours which required both eyes and mind—
“Long braids involved, and plaitings manifold.
“Thou, Sabra, oft hast tarried in secret near
“While some such strain of Judah's punishment
“Passed, as I deemed, unheeded to the wind.
“To-day, midst broidered leaves and fruits of gold,
“The setting sunbeam smote my web entwined
“With flowers and intricate stems on purple soil;
“And from its twisted threads to look around
“Had marred the whole, or wasted days of toil.

“Again those footsteps moved, and close behind
“Breathings but ill-suppressed, whose depth betrayed
“Sorrow or haste—hence too methought the sound
“Rose from thyself, nor dreamed I but the shade
“Which fell so darkly o'er my task, was thine.
“‘Thus soon returned?’—I asked. No voice replied,
“Though what was there stood near me.—‘Lo! thy cloak—
“‘If any need of that—thy cloak,’—I cried—
“‘Lies on the bench hard by.’ Nor word, nor sign
“As yet made answer—what I said was vain—
“That shadow tarried still. Once more I spoke—
“‘The Sun will fail me soon,’—but not aside
“Turned thence who listened, nor said aught again.
“I looked at last, and scarce with more surprise
“She whom rejected Saul compelled at night
“In Endor, since all holier help was lost,
“To call the prophet up; beheld his shade arise,
“And knew her king: or heard with more affright—
“‘To-morrow thou shalt be with me—thine host
“‘Shalt fall before thy foes!’”

She paused, and on her cheek,
Despoiled of all its roses, pale and cold,
Imagination wrought like death. “Still speak,”
Adjured the impatient Elder, while his eye,
In desperate speed forerunning what she told,
Was fixed on hers, and strained to extacy.
“Here—close as this,”—once more his child began:
“Above the couch on which I rest me now,
“A woman—for her garments, hair, and breast
“Looked most like woman's, else she seemed a man
“In strength and stature, voice, deportment, hue—
“A woman stood behind, her right hand prest,
“As if in pain, upon her burning brow;
“Her left, so withered, that the light blushed through,
“Outstretched on high, had cut the sunbeam short,
“And shadowed half my web. Loose waved her hair—
“Her vest was dark, but figured, like the night,
“With clouds and crimson stars—of every sort
“From reptile tribes, were foul things imaged there—
“All creatures dismal to the thought or sight,
“Some fleeing and some pursuing. Lizards—asps—
“The snake—the cockatrice—what others dread,
“She wore for ornament.”

The Elder clasps
His palms, and lifts them groaning o'er his head:
“Before I hear it, accursed be the charm!
“May all her cruel thoughts fall wide!—O child!
“I would make strong my soul with this!” he says—
And thus the maid: “She seemed possessed, or crazed
“By some ill spirit—there was no mind to harm.
“Once, as I thought, that dreadful visage smiled,
“And promises she gave of happier days
“To us and Israel. Sounds by madness raised,
“And tuneless incantations, which the tongue
“Uttered unguided, were her spells! Afraid,
“At random rhymes ere heard! Are echos sorceries?
“For while I gazed she muttered back my song,
“Mistaking or corrupting what I said.
‘O! hear me, father—haste! O haste!
‘The gates are burst—the temple waste!
‘Thy breath is lengthening to a sigh!
‘Thine hands are weak, and dark thine eyes;
‘The spoiler comes, the flames arise;
‘God's courts are filled with blasphemies—
‘The foe is in his sanctuary!
‘Blood drops upon the pavement fast—
‘Before the veil a victim dies!
‘Thy blood runs there—and thine the last—
‘Thyself his latest sacrifice.
‘Repentance, mercy, life, are past:
‘Now, father, haste!—O strike—and die!’”
She saw the Elder stoop, so spake no more:
Can he too change and tremble? Shame forbid!
O! faith and pious zeal forbid! The sneer
From poisonous tongues, even all life through, he bore;
Helpless old age, and solitude unblest,
Better perchance than happier natures did.
Perplexed and hedged about with much to fear,
While some less tempted failed—this impious pest
Comes hell-directed last, and dreaded most!
His face he turned in misery toward the floor,
Nor raised it when he answered: “Haste to fly!
“Remorse pursues her steps—sin runs before—
“Who meets, or passing looks behind, is lost—
“For all that hear her, trust—that trust her, die!”

“Sabra arise!” the wondering virgin cried:
“She hath not harmed me—wherefore should I dread?
“Beyond the reach of help, I might have died,
“And thou returned in time to find the dead,
“With nothing in the silent house beside!
“Alone I sat—who saved me from her then?
“These are but dreams in age's sleep—awake!
“Drive out such shadows as the scorn of men.
“Her hand was on my neck and o'er my head;
“She neither harmed nor threatened me—but spake
“Like one amazed or mad.” Then Sabra thus:
“I know her, what she is, and would not trust—
“Yea, though her lips rained prayers. The weak like us,
“Encompassed by no human arts, partake
“In impious mysteries of blood and lust,
“Till witchcraft binds them soul with soul to her—
“So hell becomes more great. Those lips have power!
“Crazed, as she seems, such madness will not err!—
“There is a pause near death, when men grown bold
“Toward all things else, have struggled with her chain—
“Numbering the minutes of that fearful hour!
“Though sworn as slaves to sin, and sealed of old,
“They knew that death must yield them back to pain,
“If what they spake went forth, forced up by spells
“Even from the grave, to endure her wrath again.
“Yet have they told their children ere they slept
“Such deafening tales of charms and sorceries
“Practiced before them in her midnight cells,
“That innocent feet might turn from what they feared,
“As none dare utter or think whose heart is kept
“By Him that cleanses ere he sanctifies.
“To shun, not follow, I sought—and yet have heard
“What vexed for years my slumbers with affright.
“If thou wouldst keep thy thoughts more pure—thine eyes
“From shades that scare the strong, consume the weak,
“And dreadful visions through the afflicted night,
“Child—never look that way!” She hears him speak,
Long silent when his words have ceased. As light,
If sun-struck mirrors shake upon the wall,
Fluttering o'er floor and roof, a vagrant streak
From face to face along the pictured hall,
Illumines none, yet skims and touches all:
Remembrance flashes through the virgin's breast;
Far more than wonder kindles on her cheek.
Thus wheels the dubious sea-bird ere she fall,
Nor hastes to leave, yet knows not where to rest.
“Extorted truth has dropped from impious tongues—
“The wicked have looked farther than the just,
“And things as strange been learnt through words unblest!
“Those cannot sin who neither seek nor trust—
“She came unbidden—a Sorceress with her songs!
“Charms let them be then—if I heard the verse,
“False oracles have answered wisely—Hell
“Hath made its forced confessions—Balaam brought
“From Aram in the East his purchased curse,
“Which turned to prayers and blessings while it fell.”

As one that tarries till his heart o'erfraught,
Can find no utterance through his lips, the Sire
Watched while she mused bewildered: thus desire
To learn the certainty of what men dread,
Hinders their asking; but like those who wake
When some voice calls them ere their sleep is past,
The starting virgin lifted up her head,
Perplexed, a moment, and ashamed—then spake:
“That threatening face was o'er me where I sat:
“On eyes hard fixed her eyes as fixed were cast.
“Both speechless, breathless, motionless, we gazed:
“And when upon my feet I rose—for late,
“Through fear, I tried to rise, yet stood at last—
“She awed my lips from utterance with a sign,
“Took both my hands in hers, and held them wide
“High overhead, with parted palms, upraised:
“Then, while the roof-beams shook, her hoarse voice cried—
“‘That song shall be remembered—learn thou mine.’
‘Daughter of captive Israel, hear!
‘The time grows short, the sun will fail;
‘Be strong, be glad, who hates may fear—
‘The Queen of Queens that robe shall wear—
‘Let Haza burn, Beari wail!
‘I see the trembling nations bow—
‘Chaldæa's crown is on thy brow:
‘Lo! Judah rests in Jordan's vale!
‘Visions of glory bright and near,
‘And kings that kneel to thee, appear—
‘The Queen of Queens that robe shall wear!
‘Daughter of rescued Israel, hail!’
“Thus, when the chaunt was ended, from her zone
“A vial of gold she took, and o'er my hair
“Unbraided then, poured ointment. Early flowers,
“If gathered ere the dew goes off, or blown
“While earth, at eve, steams warm with new-fallen showers,
“I falsely deemed its sweetest things: there are
“Who tell of bdellium and the Arabian spice,
“Borne far by embassies midst robes and gems
“To conquerors feared, as more perchance in price
“Than all the pearls which stud their diadems—
“But nothing, sure, will equal that again!
“It filled the house with fragrance—and before
“My lips could move to question her, she said:
“‘To-morrow thou wilt believe me—peace till then.’
“Even with her words I heard the closing door
“And parting feet.”

“These rhymes are sorceries, maid!
“Hooks barbed beneath, and baited to betray!”
Replied the afflicted Elder:—“Credulous ears
“Receive with dread the whisperings of her art—
“With dread at first—yet cannot turn away!
“Would she report good tidings in our tears,
“Or health to us?—of twofold sense be they,
“And point as if toward truth, but all athwart
“End far remote in fallacies. Our weal
“To her were bitterness: of other clay
“Than man's she seems—an alien from his lot,
“Touched by no human sympathies to feel
“The slow relentings of the obdurate heart
“At last inclined. With us she worships not.
“Nay, more—the very servants of her courts
“And devilish altars, though they crowd them still,
“Whose weary being she shortens or supports,
“Enforced to watch and wait—yet loath her will,
“Hinting their curses in each other's ears:
“Few ever went with equal speed aright—
“Sin runs apace, but hard the load it bears!
“These now would tread the backward path from ill,
“And flee the imperious Mistress if they might.

“Men call her Maala, with encumbered breath,
“Eyes cast in dread behind, and dimmed by tears—
“That sound can overtake the wings of time,
“Stir vain remorse, edge sharper hopeless fears,
“Apply, but all too late, the scourge and goad,
“And urge the mournful memory of crime.
“Hell's mightiest minister is she—beneath
“The huge foundations of that clay-built hill;
“Bel's blasted glory,—stands her dark abode.
“No human step unbidden may pass the sill,
“Or trespass twice through passages and caves
“Whose dreary mazes lead at last to death.
“There crawls the impatient asp unseen—the toad
“Has room in which to hide—the clamorous owl
“Flits from strange fires—the hoarse hyena raves—
“On slimy floors snakes hiss and scorpions sting:
“All noisome beasts, all reptile tribes impure
“Contend yet multiply; while night's dun fowl
“Beat the low caverns with continuous wing,
“And fan, in restless flight, the sunless air.
“Time lapses undistinguished still—secure
“Beyond the strength of brazen doors or walls,
“As Queen she holds her bloody festivals,
“And halves the hideous empire with Despair.

“Nor yet the living only—those misled
“By spells and sorceries, approach—her guests:
“Beings strange to nature hear the unnatural call
“Which lifts the slumberer from his painful bed—
“The soul that sleeps and dreams, but never rests—
“Whate'er resembles death, yet cannot die—
“Shades of a thousand forms, and each of dread:
“All images of impious thought, and all
“Which thought could never image—treacherous Fear,
“Obdurate Wrath, relentless Blasphemy,
“Hate, Envy, Vengeance, Pride—in flocks appear,
“To revel fiercely round the affrighted hall.
“Impenitent Remorse suspends its sigh
“And sins yet more—Lust makes a truce with Pain—
“Things human also—whether at her cry
“They warm their dust and visit earth again
“In corporal substance truly, or her skill,
“Which rests its power so far on fallacy,
“Can stain their shadows to what hue she will—
“Mixed in tumultuous hymns, with impious din
“Mysterious sabbaths keeping; all things good,
“Changed to their dreadful opposites of sin,
“Pollute her banquets with offence and blood.
“Here children, bound before the altars, wait
“And listen wondering to her dreadful rhymes:
“Rapt in tormenting trance the spirit stands
“Which strives against her now, or mourns too late
“Its past communion with forsaken crimes—
“Too late—and far too feebly to repent—
“She feasts the while, and with accursed hands
“Distributes where she lists her grace or punishment.”

He paused, when thus the maid: “Our infant sleep
“Ends with reproachful terrors, and the faith
“Still lingers on till age—disowned—yet why?
“If, midst the unfruitful vales and tideless deep
“Of that still world, whose nearest gate is death—
“For ever shut to all but those who die—
“Such beings as these, or worse, abide within
“Till incantations set their malice free,
“And bid them from their dreary confines run,
“The strong and ready ministers of sin?”

“We judge things hidden,” he said, “by those we see;
“This world were else scarce broad enough for Fear:
“Darkness conceals what shown before the sun
“Would blast our natural sight; yet such appear
“To those whose eyes are quickened by her power
“Round midnight fires and lamps that burn for ever.
“With desperate hands some move the unsocial door—
“Who watch suspense, through centuries, the hour
“When time or nature changes—these endeavour
“To breathe awhile earth's freshness—feel the wind,
“And see the places where they dwelt, once more.
“Others would pass from us toward them, and strive
“Impatient while their steps are yet confined
“Within the threshold of this visible world—
“Envying forbidden things, even while they live
“Would wander through the sad and twilight plain
“Which spreads 'twixt life and death—whose frontiers reach
“From light to darkness; where, confusedly hurled,
“All things are mixed and moving, false and vain;
“Gross shades and bodies substanceless; so these,
“From both worlds alien, come like spies to each,
“Thence learn and tell obscurely. Daughter, here
“Prevails the imputed curse, and sorcerer's reign,
“Broad-fronted midst their fiendish deities.
“What else were good, is hollow: vigilance, grace,
“And wisdom blighted ere its fruits appear:
“Thus sights half seen, foreknowledge out of place,
“False prophecies part true—unnatural ways,
“Unholy mixtures!—Priests buy bread with praise,
“And sell for gold their blessings—Sorcerers dream
“As kings instruct them—subject nations bring
“The tribute of unrighteousness, and teach
“To worship Rach with dances by the stream,
“Adrammalech with slaughter. Vainly ring
“—Though loud and frequent in regardless ears—
“From every street the widow's prayer and cry:
“All shun the fallen whose grasp endangers each:
“So Babylon is choked with blood and tears!”

He ended here; in thought the virgin sat
At first, then spake: “But what avails to fly
“If witchcraft move the interdicted gate
“Which shuts this world from hell—or she whose breath
“Can call the offending spirit from its rest,
“To endure a harder punishment than death,
“Forcing the dust to know its misery,
“If she so swift pursue?” The Elder thus:
“Dread fraud, not force—for God, who hears the opprest,
“Will conquer strength with strength—deceit and guile
“He leaves to prove the wisest, search the best;
“And warning all, he helps the weak like us.
“Ourselves seduce ourselves—tempt not her snare
“Where Sin hath power—midst solitude. The smile
“Of such a face blasts deadliest. Child! beware
“Henceforth!—it is for life. There rests, alas!
“Half yet to tell; but sorrow, and the day
“Now near, forbid. This heaviness may pass,
“And God vouchsafe to hear us. We will pray:
“Prayer cleanses what is tainted; what is pure
“Confirms and freshens still: our contrite sighs
“Ascend to Him as incense, blessed in this
“Beyond all gifts—above all sacrifice—
“They do not fail or perish, but will endure
“Till one great offering end all tears in bliss,
“And make the altar holier whence they rise!”

So teaching, from above, the grieved old man
Reached harp and lute, and lightly o'er their chords
In prelude brief, his practised fingers ran;
Then both, for both were skilled, gave sorrow words.

STROPHE.

Just Shepherd of a flock dispersed! thy might
Sustains us, or we perish! pitying Thou
Dost mark the captive's groan, the orphan's tear;
Preserve our thoughts from evil through the night,
Our erring thoughts from sin, our hearts from fear!
Far scattered from thy fold, protect us now—
A captive exile seeks to pray aright:
Father, look down! an orphan child is here!

ANTISTROPHE.

We have no strength or knowledge, righteous Lord!
Beyond our daily wants we cannot see—
Help Thou! for Thou alone canst keep and guide!
Give us thy peace, enlighten us with thy word;
Frail as we are—our might and wisdom be!
Ah! what in worms that crawl the dust—were pride?
But Thou art great! O be thy name adored!
The powers of darkness cannot reach to Thee!

STROPHE.

He makes his paths across the breadth of heaven
Amongst the planted stars! Ye stars declare,
And thou, O sun! for He hath placed you there
To witness what his hands have freely given—
And see his judgments on the unjust and proud,
How bright above your orbs his skirts appear,
Yea, though obscured and darkened in the cloud!

ANTISTROPHE.

Sovereign of Quick and Dead! before His face
The winged lightnings run, and swift behind
The voice of thunders threatening in the wind:
His steeds are as the whirlwinds! who shall trace
God's chariot-wheels tempestuous through the sky!
O! who amidst the waters, who shall find
The dark pavilion where he sits on high?