THE spacious firmament on high,
With all the blue ethereal sky,
And spangled heavens, a shining frame,
Their great Original proclaim.
The unwearied sun from day to day
Does his Creator's power display,
And publishes to every land
The work of an almighty Hand.
Soon as the evening shades prevail,
The moon takes up the wondrous tale,
And nightly, to the listening earth,
Repeats the story of her birth;
Whilst all the stars that round her burn,
And all the planets in their turn,
Confirm the tidings as they roll,
And spread the truth from pole to pole.
What though in solemn silence all
Move round the dark terrestrial ball?
What though nor real voice nor sound
Amid their radiant orbs be found?
In reason's ear they all rejoice,
And utter forth a glorious voice,
For ever singing as they shine,
"The Hand that made us is divine !"
JOSEPH ADDISON.
THE UNIVERSAL PRAYER.
DEO OPT. MAX.
FATHER of all! in every age,
In every clime adored-
By saint, by savage, and by sage-
Jehovah, Jove, or Lord!
Thou Great First Cause, least understood,
Who all my sense confined
To know but this: that Thou art good, And that myself am blind;
Yet gave me, in this dark estate,
To see the good from ill;
And, binding Nature fast in fate,
Left free the human will.
What conscience dictates to be done, Or warns me not to do,
This teach me more than hell to shun, That more than heaven pursue.
What blessings Thy free bounty gives
Let me not cast away
For God is paid when man receives:
To enjoy is to obey.
Yet not to earth's contracted span
Thy goodness let me bound,
Or think Thee Lord alone of man,
When thousand worlds are round.
Let not this weak, unknowing hand
Presume Thy bolts to throw,
And deal damnation round the land
On each I judge Thy foe.
If I am right, Thy grace impart
Still in the right to stay;
If I am wrong, oh teach my heart
To find that better way.
Save me alike from foolish pride
Or impious discontent,
At aught Thy wisdom has denied,
Or aught Thy goodness lent.
Teach me to feel another's woe,
To hide the fault I see;
That mercy I to others show,
That mercy show to me.
Mean though I am, not wholly so,
Since quicken'd by Thy breath;
Oh lead me, wheresoe'er I go,
Through this day's life or death.
This day be bread and peace my lot:
All else beneath the sun
Thou know'st if best bestow'd or not,
And let Thy will be done.
To Thee, whose temple is all space,
Whose altar, earth, sea, skies-
One chorus let all being raise!
All Nature's incense rise!
WITH One consent let all the earth
To God their cheerful voices raise;
Glad homage pay with awful mirth,
And sing before Him songs of praise. Convinced that He is God alone,
From whom both we and all proceed;