Nor own His bounty in your reign?
O winds, that seem to waft from far
A mystic murmur o'er the soul,
As ye had power to pass the bar
Of nature in your vast control,
Hail to your everlasting roll—
Obedient still ye wander dim,
And softly breathe, or loudly toll,
Through earth and sky the name of Him.
O world of waters, o'er whose bed