Oh thoughts ineffable! oh visions blest!
Though worthless our conceptions all of Thee.
Yet shall Thy shadowed image fill our breast,
And waft its homage to Thy deity.
God! thus alone my lowly thoughts can soar,
Thus seek Thy presence—Being wise and good!
Midst Thy vast works admire, obey, adore;
And when the tongue is eloquent no more,
The soul shall speak in tears of gratitude.
From the Russian of GAVRIÍL ROMÁNOVITCH DERSHÁVIN.
Translation of SIR JOHN BOWRING.
* * * * *
GOD IS EVERYWHERE.
A trodden daisy, from the sward,
With tearful eye I took,
And on its ruined glories I,
With moving heart, did look;
For, crushed and broken though it was,
That little flower was fair;
And oh! I loved the dying bud,
For God was there!
I stood upon the sea-beat shore,
The waves came rushing on;
The tempest raged in giant wrath,
The light of day was gone.
The sailor from his drowning bark
Sent up his dying prayer;
I looked amid the ruthless storm,
And God was there!
I sought a lonely, woody dell,
Where all things soft and sweet,
Birds, flowers, and trees, and running streams,
Mid bright sunshine did meet:
I stood beneath an old oak's shade,
And summer round was fair;
I gazed upon the peaceful scene,
And God was there!
I saw a home—a happy home—
Upon a bridal day,
And youthful hearts were blithesome there,
And aged hearts were gay:
I sat amid the smiling band
Where all so blissful were—
Among the bridal maidens sweet—
And God was there!
I stood beside an infant's couch,
When light had left its eye—
I saw the mother's bitter tears,
I heard her woful cry—
I saw her kiss its fair pale face,
And smooth its yellow hair;
And oh, I loved the mourner's home,
For God was there!