Classic Poem

1.

Thee Sion 's praise, O Lord, attends,
To Thee the frequent vow ascends
From each whom Salem 's walls behold
Among her faithful sons inroll'd:
To Thee, whose ready ear the pray'r
Prevents, shall Man's whole race repair:

2.

Behold, their Maker taught to own,
Behold them bow before thy throne,
Amidst them at thy footstool I,
Press'd with a weight of guilt, apply,
Assur'd from Thy free grace to win
The wish'd atonement of my sin.

3.

Blest, who by sweet experience knows,
What Joys thy Presence, Lord, bestows,
The Man, who, privileg'd by Thee,
Thy face in near approach shall see,
Behold thy beams effulgent play,
And in thy Dwelling fix his stay.

4.

Let Israel 's Tribes, their foes o'erthrown,
The terrors of thy Justice own,
O Thou, the Hope of human race,
Of all whom Earth's wide arms embrace,
Of all who tost by tempests sweep
The surface of the pathless Deep.

5.

In Thee they trust, who girt with pow'r
Hast bid the Mountains heav'nward tow'r,
And fix'd their Base; — who know'st to rein
The insults of the foaming Main,
Check the brute waves that roar aloud,
And still the madness of the Croud.

6.

Remotest Realms with dire dismay
Thy wonders, mightiest Lord, survey;
Struck with surprize thy pow'r they own,
And humbled bow before thy throne;
While, as they walk th' ethereal Round,
The Morn and Eve thy praise resound.

7.

Thy visits teach the grateful soil
To recompense the tiller's toil:
By unexhausted springs supplied
Thy River pours its copious tide,
And bids the strength-infusing grain
Earth's countless Family sustain.

8.

The Clouds, in frequent show'rs distill'd,
Drop fatness on the pregnant field,
Break the tough glebe, the furrows chear,
And crown with good the gliding year;
Th' exulting Hills, th' extended Waste,
Thy gifts in rich profusion taste.

9.

Nurs'd by thy care the fleecy train
Invests with white the rural plain,
While, as beneath the fav'ring skies
In crouded ranks the harvests rise,
The laughing Vale assumes a tongue,
And bursts triumphant into song.