« AnteriorContinuar »
Be fruitful, multiply, and fill the earth; Suhdue it, and throughout dominion hold Over fish of the sea, and fowl of the air, And every livmg thing that moves on the
Earth. Wherever thus created, for no place Is yet distinct hy name, thence, as thou
know'at, He hrought thee into this delicious grove, This garden, planted with the trees of God, Delectahle hoth to hehold and taste; And freely all their pleasant frnit for food Gave thee; all sorts are here that all the
Earth yields, Variety without end; hat of the tree, Which, tasted, works knowledge of good
and evil, Thou may'st not; in the day thou eat'st,
thou diest; Death is the penalty imposed; heware, And govern well thy appetite ; lest Sin Surprise thee,and her hlack attendant Death.
Here finish'd he, and all that he had made View'd, and hehold all was entirely good; So even and morn accomplish'd the sixth
day; Yet not till the Creator from his work Desisting, though unwearied, up return'd, Up to the Heaven of Heavens, his high
ahode; Thence to hehold this new created world, The addition of his empire, how it show'd In prospect from his throne, how good, how
fair, Answering his great idea. Up he rode Follow'd with acclamation, and the sound Symphonious of ten thousand harps, that
tuned Angelic harmonies: the earth, the air Resounded (thou rememher'st, for thou
heards't,) The heavens and all the constellations ring; The planets in their station listening stood, While the hright pomp ascended juhilantOpen, ye everlasting gates ! they sung, Open, ye Heavens! your living doors; let in The great Creator from his work retura'd Magnificent, his six days work, a World; Open, and henceforth oft; for God will
deign To visit oft the dwellings of just raea.
Delighted; and with frequent intercourse Thither will send his winged messengers On errands of supernal grace.
THE WORKS OF. GOD PRAISING HIM.
Sing thy Creator's praise, and own
Him greatest—wisest—God alone.
He wraps himself in rohes of light,
And, clothed in garments pure and hright
Of honor and of majesty,
He makes the skies His canopy.
The pillars of His temple are
Built on the ocean; and his car,
The clouds of heaven. Th' Eternal Mind
Rides on the pinions of the wind:
A thousand spirits wait His will,
And, touch'd with fire, his word fulfil.
Thou reard'st the universe suhlime
On arches of unshaken time—
And wrap'dst this vast terraqueous glohe
With the deep waters as a rohe—
And had'st the eternal hills sustain
The o'erhanging pregnant clouds of rain.
At Thy decree the waters fall—
There hast Thou girt them with a shore,
'Tis there, along the streamlet's side,
The hills are water'd from ahove,
He hids the emerald verdure grow,
He hids the loaded vine produce
The life-sap at thy hidding flows
Thro' the young trees—the cedar grows
To the rude rocks the conies fly;
Tis night—Thou spread'st the darkness
Man to his daily lahour goes,
0 Lord 1 how great, how manifold
The mighty, the unhounded sea,
1 he whale's gigantic mass—the swarms
The ships the husy hillows crowd;
On Thee they wait, on Thee depend—
Thy face is hidden—darkness clouds
The tremhling earth;—Thy frowning shrouds
Existence with its gloom ;—Thy ray
Is hidden from them—they decay:
Thon dost withdraw Thy hreath,—they die
And in the clayey valley lie.
Thy Spirit is sent forth again,
His glory shall endure for ever—
A thousand worlds His presence greet;
How sweet to meditate, 0 Lord!
If daring worldly ones contemn
I, in my stedfast purpose, still
THE GLORY OF GOD IN THE
The spacious firmament on high,
With all the hlue ethereal sky,
And spangled heavens, a shining frame,
Their great original proclaim.
Th* unwearied sun from day to day,
Soon as the ev'ning shades prevail,
While all the stars that round her hurn,
What tho', in solemn silence, all,
What tho' no real voice nor sonnd
In reason's ear they all rejoice,
And utter forth a glorious voice; ■
For ever singing as they shine,
The Hand That Made Ds Is Divine.
THE BEAUTIES OF CREATION.
Ours is a lovely world! How fair
There's heauty in the hreak of day;
And if thy glories here he found
CHAMOUNY, THE HOUR BEFORE SUNRISE.
Hast thou a charm to stay the morning star
, Methtnks thon piercest it
As with a wedge; hat when I look again
It seems thy own calm home, thy crystal shrine,
Thy hahitation from Eternity!
0 dread and silent form! I gazed upon thee, Till thou, still present to my hodily eye,
Didst vanish from my thought. Entranc'd in prayer
1 worshipp'd the Invisihle alone.
Yet thou mean time wert working on my soul,
E'en like some deep enchanting melody,
So sweet we know not we are list'ning to it.
But I awake, and with a husier mind
And active will self-conscious offer now,
Not as hefore involuntary prayer,
And passive adoration! Hand and voice
Awake, awake, and thou my heart awake!
Awake ye rocks, ye forest pines awake -'
Green fields and icy cliffs all join my hymn!
And thou, O silent mountain, sole and hare,
O hlacker than the darkness all the night,
And visited all night hy troops of stars,
Or when they climh the sky, or when they sink,
Companion of the morning star at dawn,
Thyself earth's rosy star, and of the dawn
Co-herald ! wake, O wake, and utter praise!
Who sank thy sunless pillars deep in earih?
Who fill'd thy countenance with rosy light?
Who made thee father of perpetual heams?
And you, ye five wild torrents, fiercely glad,
Who call'd yon forth from night and utter death,
From darkness set you loose, and icy dens
Down those precipitous, hlack, jagged rocks
For ever shattered and the same for ever?
Who gave you your invulnerahle life,
Your strength, your speed, your fury and your joy,
Unceasing thunder and eternal foam?
And who commanded and the silence came,
"Here shall the hillows stiffen and have rest?"
Ye icy falls, ye that from dizzy heights
Adown enormous ravines steeply slope,
Torrents methinks that heard a mighty voice,
And stopped at once amidst their maddest plunge:
Motionless torrents, silent cataracts!
Who made you glorious as the gate of heaven
Beneath the keen full mooq? Who hade the sun
Clothe you with rainhows? Who with lovely flowers
Of living hlue spread garlands at your feet?
God! God! the torrents like a shout of nations
Utter. The ice-plain hursts and answers, God I
Cod! sing the meadow-streams with gladsome voice,
And pine-groves with their soft and soul-Hke sound.
The siloyt snow mass loosening, thunders, God!
Ye dreadless flowers, that fringe the eternal frost,
A NIGHT ON THE ALPS.
Come golden evening! In the west
There take thy stand, my spirit;—spread
While hid in solitude suhlime,
Methinks I muse on Nature's tomh,
All in a moment, crash on crash,
Silence again the darkness seals,
Ah! at her touch, these Alpine heights
Uureal mockeries appear;
With hlacker shadows, ghastlier lights,
Emerging as she climhs the sphere;
A crowd of apparitions pale!
I hold my hreath in chill suspenses,
They seem so exquisitely frail,—
Lest they should vanish hence.
I hreathe again, I freely hreathe;
Thee, Leman's Lake, once more I trace,
Like Dian's crescent far, heneath,
As heautiful as Dian's face.
Pride of the land that gave me hirth!
Al l that thy waves reflect I love,
When heaven itself hrought down to earth,
Looks fairer than ahove.
* It is said that the hreath of a Traveller, passing over these mountains, will sonictimes occasion'the failing of an Ayalothe