Ye insects small, to which one leaf
Within its narrow sides
A vast extended world displays,
And spacious realms provides;
Ye race, still less than these, with which
The stagnant water teems,
To which one drop, however small,
A boundless ocean seems;
Whate'er ye are, where'er ye dwell,
Ye creatures great or small,
Adore the wisdom, praise the power,
That made and governs all.
—P. Skelton
THE TRAVELLER
How are thy servants blest, O Lord!
How sure is their defence!
Eternal wisdom is their guide,
Their help, Omnipotence.
In foreign realms, and lands remote,
Supported by Thy care,
Through burning climes I pass'd unhurt,
And breathed in tainted air.
Thy mercy sweeten'd every soil,
Made every region please;
The hoary Alpine hills it warm'd,
And smoothed the Tyrrhene seas.
Think, O my soul, devoutly think,
How, with affrighted eyes,
Thou saw'st the wide-extended deep
In all its horrors rise.
Confusion dwelt in every face,
And fear in every heart;
When waves on waves, and gulfs on gulfs,
O'ercame the pilot's art.