The present God,—there does He rear his throne,
And, tranced in boundless thoughts, the soul doth own
III.
And feel his strength within.—This day once more,
In place thus sacred, did our Founder keep;
None, save the Deity he bent before,
Marked the devotions of his feelings deep.
None, do I say? yet there was Waban poor;
Alas! his mind in utter night did sleep;
He saw our Founder at his earnest prayer,