Strong Son of God! immortal Love, Whom we, that have not seen Thy face,
By faith, and faith alone, embrace, Believing where we can not prove!
Thine are these orbs of light and shade; Thou madest life in man and brute; Thou madest Death; and lo, Thy foot Is on the skull which Thou hast made!
Thou wilt not leave us in the dust: Thou madest man, he knows not why; He thinks he was not made to die; And Thou hast made him: Thou art just.
Thou seemest human and divine,
The highest, holiest manhood, Thou: Our wills are ours, we know not how; Our wills are ours to make them Thine.
Our little systems have their day;
They have their day and cease to be; They are but broken lights of Thee, And Thou, O Lord, are more than they.
We have but faith: we can not know;
For knowledge is of things we see;
And yet we trust it comes from Thee,
A beam in darkness: let it grow.
Let knowledge grow from more to more,
But more of reverence in us dwell;
That mind and soul, according well,
May make one music as before,
But vaster. We are fools and slight;
We mock Thee when we do not fear;
But help Thy foolish ones to bear;
Help Thy vain worlds to bear Thy light.
Forgive what seemed my sin in me;
What seemed my worth since I began; For merit lives from man to man, And from man, O Lord, to Thee.
Forgive my grief for one removed,
Thy creature, whom I found so fair.
I trust he lives in Thee, and there
I find him worthier to be loved.
Forgive these wild and wandering cries, Confusions of a wasted youth;
Forgive them where they fail in truth, And in Thy wisdom make me wise.
BY GABRIEL ROMANOVITCH DERZHAVIN
O Thou eternal One! whose presence bright
All space doth occupy, all motion guide;
Unchanged through time's all-devastating flight;
Thou only God! There is no God beside!
Being above all beings! mighty One!
Whom none can comprehend and none explore;
Who fill'st existence with Thyself alone;
Embracing all, supporting, ruling o'er,—
Being whom we call God, and know no more!
In its sublime research, philosophy
May measure out the ocean-deep, may count
The sands or the sun's rays; but God! for Thee
There is no weight nor measure: none can mount
Up to Thy mysteries. Reason's brightest spark,
Tho kindled by Thy light, in vain would try
To trace Thy counsels, infinite and dark;
And thought is lost ere thought can soar so high,
Even like past moments in eternity.
Thou from primeval nothingness didst call
First chaos, then existence: Lord! on Thee
Eternity had its foundation; all
Sprung forth from Thee,-of light, joy, harmony,
Sole origin: all life, all beauty Thine.
Thy word created all, and doth create;
Thy splendor fills all space with rays divine.
Thou art, and wert, and shalt be! Glorious! Great!
Light-giving, life-sustaining Potentate!
Thy chains the unmeasured universe surround,
Upheld by Thee, by Thee inspired with breath!
Thou the beginning with the end hast bound,
And beautifully mingled life and death!
As sparks mount upward from the fiery blaze,
So suns are born, so worlds spring forth from Thee,
And as the spangles in the sunny rays
Shine round the silver snow, the pageantry
Of heaven's bright army glitters in Thy praise.
A million torches lighted by Thy hand
Wander unwearied through the blue abyss:
They own Thy power, accomplish Thy command,
All gay with life, all eloquent with bliss.
What shall we call them? Piles of crystal light,
A glorious company of golden streams,
Lamps of celestial ether burning bright,
Suns lighting systems with their joyous beams?
But Thou to these art as the noon to night.
Yes! as a drop of water in the sea,
All this magnificence in Thee is lost:
What are ten thousand worlds compared to Thee?
And what am I then? Heaven's unnumbered host,
Tho multiplied by myriads, and arrayed
In all the glory of sublimest thought,
Is but an atom in the balance, weighed
Against Thy greatness; is a cipher brought
Against infinity! Oh, what am I then? Naught!
Naught! yet the effluence of Thy light divine,
Pervading worlds, hath reached my bosom too;
Yes! in my spirit doth Thy spirit shine,
As shines the sunbeam in a drop of dew.
Naught! yet I live, and on hope's pinions fly
Eager towards Thy presence; for in Thee
I live, and breathe, and dwell; aspiring high,
Even to the throne of Thy divinity.
I am, O God! and surely Thou must be!
Thou art! directing, guiding all, Thou art!
Direct my understanding, then, to Thee;
Control my spirit, guide my wandering heart:
Tho but an atom midst immensity,
Still I am something, fashioned by Thy hand!
I hold a middle rank 'twixt heaven and earth,
On the last verge of mortal being stand,
Close to the realms where angels have their birth, Just on the boundaries of the spirit-land!
The chain of being is complete in me;
In me is matter's last gradation lost,
And the next step is spirit-Deity!
I can command the lightning, and am dust!
A monarch, and a slave; a worm, a god!
Whence came I here? and how so marvelously
Constructed and conceived? unknown! this clod
Lives surely through some higher energy;
For from itself alone it could not be!
|