Machelenda sutch Ktelewunsoacan,
or
Hallowed be thy name.”
Here the measure changed, and sweeping the strings with a bolder hand, she continued her untutored hymn, blending her Christian creed with the figures and expressions of the people among whom she dwelt.
“The Great Spirit of the Lenapé is God.
He has sent His word to gladden the heart of man.
But clouds still darken the minds of the ancient people.
The Great Spirit knows that they are blind and deaf,
Yet His ear is open to hear,
His hand is ready to guide.
(ut suprà.)
Hallowed be thy name!”
Again the measure changed, as in the richest tones of her melodious voice she pursued her theme.
“Sion and the everlasting mountains are thy footstool!
Lightnings are about thy throne.
Thunder is thy voice.
And the evil spirit trembles before thee!
The eagle cannot soar to thy habitation;
His eye cannot look on thy brightness;
Yet dost thou give life to the insect,
And breath to the merry wren!
Thou leadest the wild horse to the pasture,
And the thirsty fawn to the stream.
Hallowed be thy name.”