The fount of Happiness—the source of Glory—
Eternity is in thy hands, and Power—
Oh, from that sphere unrecognised by our
Slow souls, look down upon a world which, hoary
In Evil and in Error though it be,
Retains even yet some trace of that primeval
Beauty that bloomed upon its brow ere Evil
And Error wiled it from Thy Love and Thee!
Look down, and if, while human brows are brightening
In godless triumph, angel eyes be weeping,