The Great Unseen, th’ Almighty One, ’s behind the screen.
Our moving wind, our very being from thee springs.
Existence, else, were vain, not sheltered ’neath thy wings.
’Tis thou hast taught us, nothings, valued life to prize;
’Twas thou that made us, erring, lovers of th’ Allwise.
Take not from us the savour sweet of thy good gifts,
Thy cup, thy wine, thy relish, absence from us lifts.
But shouldst thou still refuse, who to repine ’d have heart?
Can pictures of the painter’s hand complain, and art?295
No notice of us take; from us avert thy face;