THE PRESENCE OF GOD.
O Thou, who fling'st so fair a robe
Of clouds around the hills untrod—
Those mountain-pillars of the globe,
Whose peaks sustain thy throne, O God!
All glittering round the sunset skies,
Their trembling folds are lightly furled,
As if to shade from mortal eyes
The glories of yon upper world;
There, while the evening star upholds
In one bright spot their purple folds,
My spirit lifts its silent prayer,
For Thou, the God of love, art there.
Of clouds around the hills untrod—
Those mountain-pillars of the globe,
Whose peaks sustain thy throne, O God!
All glittering round the sunset skies,
Their trembling folds are lightly furled,
As if to shade from mortal eyes
The glories of yon upper world;
There, while the evening star upholds
In one bright spot their purple folds,
My spirit lifts its silent prayer,
For Thou, the God of love, art there.
The summer flowers, the fair, the sweet,
Upspringing freely from the sod,
In whose soft looks we seem to meet,
At every step, Thy smiles, O God!
The humblest soul their sweetness shares,
They bloom in palace-hall, or cot—
Give me, O Lord! a heart like theirs,
Contented with my lowly lot!
Within their pure ambrosial bells,
In odors sweet Thy Spirit dwells;
Upspringing freely from the sod,
In whose soft looks we seem to meet,
At every step, Thy smiles, O God!
The humblest soul their sweetness shares,
They bloom in palace-hall, or cot—
Give me, O Lord! a heart like theirs,
Contented with my lowly lot!
Within their pure ambrosial bells,
In odors sweet Thy Spirit dwells;
