'Tis He who doth the wronged redress In judgment and in righteousness;
His ways to Moses He revealed,
His out-stretched arm was Israel's shield;
They saw His wonders, and adored
The mercies of the living Lord.
How doth His kindness still o'erflow,
Long-suffering and to anger slow!
Our faults He will not always chide,
In wrath He doth not long abide,
Nor with us deal, when we transgress,
According to our wickedness.
For look, how high this earth above
Is yonder Heaven,—so vast His love:
From East to West the space survey,—
So far He puts our sins away;
Yea, as a Father, is He moved
With pity towards a child beloved.
For God, still merciful as just,
Remembers that we are but dust;
Man's days are but as grass, a flower
That springs and withers in an hour;
The winds pass o'er it and 'tis not;
Where late it bloomed, unknown, forgot.
But the Lord's mercies, ever sure,
Through generations shall endure;
Towards children's children still displayed
Of such as in His Faith have stayed,
And ever thought upon His will,
How best His precepts to fulfil.
The Lord in heaven hath set His throne; His power through all the world is known :
Ye Angels, who in strength excel,
With trumpet-tongue His praises tell;
Ye, who still hearkening to His voice,
To execute His word rejoice.
Praise Him, all ye His Hosts, who stand
Prompt to perform your Lord's command;
Bless ye, His works, your Maker's name,
In every place His power proclaim;
And thou, my soul, unite to raise
The universal song of praise.
OMNISCIENT, Omnipresent power!
In every place and every hour,
I own thy sway; when down I lie,
And when I rise, Thou still art nigh;
My very thoughts to Thee are known,
Ere yet in speech or action shown.
About my path, about my bed,
The shadow of thy wing is spread;
Thy sleepless and all-seeing eye
Doth my most secret ways espy;
And in an instant every word,
My tongue lets fall, thine ear hath heard.
How, then, thy Spirit may I shun!
Or whither from thy presence run!
If, soaring through the realms of air,
I climb to Heaven, my God is there;
If down to deepest Hell I go,
There too thy Spirit rules below.
If I should take the wings of morn,
And to earth's utmost bounds be borne,
In lonely isle, on desert plain,
Escape from Thee would still be vain :
E'en there thy power would be confest,
And thy right hand my flight arrest.
Come, night, and hide me! should I say,
Straight would the night be turned to day;
With Thee no shades obscure the night,
The darkness is as clear as light;
The midnight gloom, the noonday sun,
Darkness and light, to Thee are one.
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