POWER OF THE ALMIGHTY.
God of the chainless winds, that wildly wreck
The moaning forest, and the ancient oak
Rend like a sapling spray, and sweep the sand
O'er the lost caravan, that trod, with pride
Of tinkling bells, and camel's arching neck,
The burning desert—a dense host at morn,
At eve a bubble on the trackless waste—
God of the winds! canst thou not rule the heart,
And gather back its passions when thou wilt,
Bidding them "Peace: be still!"
God of the waves,
That toss and mock the mightiest argosy,
As the wild zephyr frets the thistle-down,
Until the sternest leader's heart doth melt
Because of trouble—Thou who call'st them back
From their rough challenge to the muffled sky,
And bidd'st them harmless lave an infant's feet
That seeketh silver shells—canst Thou not curb
The tumult of the nations, the hot wrath
Of warring kings, who, like the babe, must die;
Vaunting this day in armour, and the next,
Unshrouded, slumbering on the battle-field?
God of the unfathom'd, unresisted deep!
We trust in Thee, and know in whom we trust.
—God of the solemn stars, that tread so true
The path by thee appointed, every one,
