All nature faints beneath the mighty name,
Which nature's works, thro' all their parts proclaim.
I feel that name my inmoſt thoughts controul,
And breathe an awful ſtillneſs thro' my ſoul;
As by a charm, the waves of grief ſubſide;
Impetuous paſſion ſtops her headlong tide:
At thy felt preſence all emotions ceaſe,
And my huſh'd ſpirit finds a ſudden peace,
Till every worldly thought within me dies,
And earth's gay pageants vaniſh from my eyes;
Till all my ſenſe is loſt in infinite,
And one vaſt object fills my aching ſight.
But ſoon, alas! this holy calm is broke;
My ſoul ſubmits to wear her wonted yoke;
With ſhackled pinions ſtrives to ſoar in vain,
And mingles with the droſs of earth again.
But he, our gracious Maſter, kind, as juſt,
