Moral Pieces, in Prose and Verse/At Mid-Day
AT MID-DAY.
THOU art in every place, Being Supreme!
Best seen and worship'd, in thy court above,
Yet here on earth thy countenance doth beam
With rays of terror, majesty, and love,
And joys unspeakable thy smile do move;
And none may veil him from thy piercing sight,
Escape thine hand, or from thy presence rove;
Or hide in secret cells close wrapt in night,
For unto thee the darkness shineth as the light.
Thou dwellest where the curtain'd whirlwinds hide;
Where the arm'd thunder walks his lofty round;
Thou on the tempest of the night dost ride,
Flames mark thy path, and clouds thy car surround,
And mighty winds are rous'd, and surging billows sound,
While from thine eye the winged lightnings part;
Thou in the highest arch of Heaven art found;
In the dark regions of the earth thou art,
And in the humble mansion of the contrite heart.
With fear I bow me at thine awful seat;
How to thy holy presence dare I press!
But hark; a voice celestial seems to meet
My waiting ear, and my intrusion bless,
"Spread before me your wants and your distress,
Upon mine arm of strength your burdens cast,
An intercessor fills the holy place."
I come; the hour of terror now is past,
I trust thou wilt not leave me comfortless at last.
Oh! if the storms of life with bitter rage,
Upon my sad, unshelter'd head should blow,
If trembling down the cold, dark steep of age,
My weak and unsupported step should go,
My heart all sunk with weariness and woe,
Or wheresoe'er my unknown path shall tend,
Still let my bosom at thy presence glow,
Still let my ceaseless prayers to thee ascend,
And ever to my wants thy kind compassion lend.