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1 Can Creatures to Perfection find
Th' eternal, uncreated Mind;
Or can the largest Stretch of Thought
Measure and search his Nature out!
2 'Tis high as Heav'n, 'tis deep as Hell
And what can mortals know or tell?
His Glory spreads beyond the Sky,
And all the shining Worlds on high.
3 But Man, vain Man, would fain be wise;
Born like a wild young Colt he flies
Thro' all the Follies of his Mind,
And smells, and snuffs the empty Wind.
4 God is a King of Power unknown,
Firm are the Orders of his Throne;
If He resolve, who dares oppose,
Or ask Him why or what He does?
5 He wounds the Heart, and He makes whole;
He calms the Tempest of the Soul;
When He shuts up in long Despair,
Who can remove the heavy Bar?
6 He frowns, and Darkness veils the Moon,
The fainting Sun grows dim at Noon;
The Pillars of Heav'n's starry Roof
Tremble and start at his Reproof.
7 He gave the vaulted Heav'n its Form,
The crooked Serpent, and the Worm;
He breaks the Billows with his Breath,
And smites the Sons of Pride to Death.
8 These are a Portion of his Ways;
But who shall dare describe his Face?
Who can endure his Light? or stand
To hear the Thunders of his Hand?
Text Information | |
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First Line: | Can Creatures to Perfection find |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1760 |
Scripture: | ; ; |