Poems (McDonald)/The Heavens

by Mary Noel McDonald

For works with similar titles, see The Heavens.

THE HEAVENS.

"The Heavens declare the glory of god, and the
firnament showeth his handy-work."

 Is it not glorious—the arch of blue
 Spread out above us by our Maker's hand?
 The mighty dome a heaven-built temple knew,
 When springing forth at God's all-wise command;
 How it doth stretch away o'er sea and land,
 Unpillared—since the hour His mandate clear
 Fixed its unmeasured limit, thus to stand
 Till the last trump shah burst upon the ear,
And nations wake from death, their final doom to hear!

 'Tis morn, the gates of light are opened wide—
 See from the orient comes the god of day!
 He mounts his dazzling chariot to ride,
 Like a proud monarch, his appointed way:
 Onward he journeys, till his noontide ray
 Pierces each leafy screen, each wooded dell,
 Then westward rolling, pass the heats away;
 And when chimes clearly out the vesper bell,
'Mid clouds of gorgeous hue, he bids the world farewell.

 Night curtains earth again, each weary child
 Of frail mortality it calls to rest;
 And now the moon's pale crescent undefiled,
 Hangs like a silver boat in the cool west;
 Or, older waxing, pours her radiance blest,
 Where city streets lie silent 'neath her beams,
 Robing all nature in her spotless veșt,
 And mirrored in a thousand mighty streams,
And lighting ocean's foam, and on the white sail gleams.

 Nor cometh she alone—the stars are there,
 Those flaming jewels set by God on high;
 Transient but beautiful, the meteor's glare
 Lights for a moment the uplifted eye;
 Orion and the Pleiades are nigh,
 The Polar Star unwearied, and with them
 The day's bright herald, as the night lays by
 The regal splendors of her diadem,
And lost in greater glory, fades each radiant gem.

 But more, look up once more, and trembling see
 The clouds unfurl their banners in the sky:
 Loud rolls the thunder's dread artillery,
 And swift and fierce the winged lightnings fly;
 Veil, mortal, veil thy terror-stricken eye,
 Jehovah speaks to listening man below;
 And now the blast is spent, the storm gone by,
 The sun shines forth triumphantly, and lo!
The darkest cloud is spanned by the bright promise-bow!

 The heavens declare thy glory—in his might
 The sun tells out thy praise from day to day—
 The stars, the myriad stars, at noon of night,
 Sing as they keep their fixed, unerring way;
 Silent they seem to man—but oh! each ray
 Is vocal with creation's choral hymn—
 Far rolling orbs take up the rapturous lay,
 And distant planets, vast, obscure and dim,
Swell the loud anthem, clear as white-robed seraphim.

 The heavens declare thy glory—who can gaze,
 Almighty Father! on that azure sea,
 With all its countless barks of light, yet raise
 Nor voice nor grateful tribute unto thee?
 Thine are the dazzling worlds of light we see,
 And each their Maker's majesty proclaim,
 Burn in their orbits by thy sure decree,
 And write thy power in characters of flame,
Meet page, Eternal God! to bear thy glorious name.