| Citation |
NYWJ.741.039
21 Dec 1741:32 (421)
A HYMN.
O Lord, when I the Heaven survey,
And all the splended frame,
I feel my ardent breast consum'd
With a devouring flame.
By thy command, the radiant sun
In glory crowns the day;
And stars, when shade invests the world,
Their gentler light display.
The Spring in sweet vivissitude,
Adorns the flow'ry fields;
And Autumn gay with golden fruit,
A pleasant prospect yields.
If, then, thy lib'ral hand has pour'd
On nature so much grace,
O! with what joy the saints behold
Th' effulgence of thy face.
While by reflexion I thy charms
In nature here descry,
Longing to enter thy blest courts,
I languish, faint, and die.
My soul wou'd, disengag'd
Be ravish'd with thy sight;
But in this sordid clay confin'd,
The body stops its flight.
When wilt thou to thy servant, Lord!
Unveil thy beauty's blaze,
And all my faculties be lost
In extasy and praise?
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