Classic Poem

O then, Jehovah, God of armies strong,
To whom the power's of earth and heav'n belong;
How vastly blessed is the fixed man,
Who by a firm fiducial boldness can,
Through grace and strength dispensed from above,
So sweetly scan the height of divine love,
As to derive his comfort wholly thence,
And on this rock to found his confidence?
Whose faith has reared up for a firm abode
A stable building on a living God?
Who, spoil'd of human props both great and small,
Does chuse a triune Deity for all?
What scrolls of bliss are in this all inroll'd,
Is too sublime for seraphs to unfold.
Sist, human wisdom, in a deep amaze!
Let rapid floods of life his glory raise,
Till time be drowned in his eternal praise.