Poems (Cook)/Hallowed be Thy Name

by Eliza Cook

HALLOWED BE THY NAME.

List to the dreamy tone that dwells
 In rippling wave, or sighing tree;
Go, hearken to the old church bells;
 The whistling bird, the whirring bee:
Interpret right, and ye will find
 'Tis "power and glory" they proclaim:
The chimes, the creatures, waters, wind;
 All publish, "hallowed be Thy name!"

The pilgrim journeys till he bleeds,
 To gain the altar of his sires;
The hermit pores above his beads,
 With zeal that never wanes nor tires:
But holiest rite or longest prayer
 That soul can yield or wisdom frame;
What better import can it bear
 Than "Father! hallowed be Thy name!

The savage kneeling to the sun,
 To give his thanks or ask a boon—
The raptures of the idiot one
 Who laughs to see the clear round moon—
The saint well taught in Christian lore—
 The Moslem prostrate at his flame—
All worship, wonder, and adore;
 All end in, "hallowed be Thy name!"

Whate'er may be man's faith or creed,
 Those precious words comprise it still;
We trace them on the bloomy mead,
 We hear them in the flowing rill.
One chorus hails the Great Supreme;
 Each varied breathing tells the same.
The strains may differ; but the theme
 Is, "Father, hallowed be Thy name!"