Page:Poems Hornblower.djvu/105

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93

Trembling on earth—His weakest child—
Ah! yet I hear His accents mild—
I see His face divine.
"Fear not, my creature!" doth He say,
"Pursue in calm thy earthly way,
"Eternity is thine!"

"Feed with pure fire the immortal hope,
"The sacred sapphire gates to ope
"I ask but love and faith:
"Those angels in thy bosom shine,
"My perfect peace shall then be thine,
"A peace that fears not death."

Father adored! I know thy voice,
I feel each quivering chord rejoice,
That in my bosom plays;
With raptured spirit now I dare,
On this delicious morning air,
To celebrate Thy praise!

Praise Him, ye heavens! praise Him, ye deeps!
O'er which infinitude now sleeps,
His boundless power and great;—
Praise Him, eternal roofs above,
Whose chorus of supremest love
Those vaults doth recreate.