And can it be I am possessed
Of something brighter far?
Glows there a light within this breast
Outshining every star?
Yes; should the sun and stars turn pale,
The mountains melt away,
This flame within shall never fail,
But live in endless day.
This is the soul that God has given,—
Sin may its lustre dim;
While goodness bears it up to heaven,
And leads it back to him.
[ROBINSON CRUSOE'S HYMN.]
My Heavenly Father! all I see,
Around me and above,
Sends forth a hymn of praise to thee,
And speaks thy boundless love.
The clear blue sky is full of thee,
The woods so dark and lone;
The soft south-wind, the sounding sea,
Worship the Holy One.
The humming of the insect throng,
The prattling, sparkling rill,
The birds, with their melodious song,
Repeat thy praises still.
And thou dost hear them every one,—
Father, thou hearest me;
I know that I am not alone,
When I but think of thee.