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ADDRESS TO THE DEITY.
THOU[1] at whose words the mighty storms obey,
The whirlwinds ravage, or the whirlwinds stay,
At whose dread call the thunder springs to birth,
The strong winds rack the firm and solid earth,
And lightnings glare, and ocean foams with ire,
And snow-clad rocks burst forth with flames of fire;
Yet whose least breath can hush the jarring strife,
And wake the severed atoms into life,
Send hark proud ocean from the trembling land,
And curb his power with a frail bound of sand,
Hush the wild whirlwind—bid the thunder cease,
And comfort nature with the smile of peace;
Canst thou, who vast eternity dost span;
Not change the heart, and turn the ways of man?
As the soft stream forsakes its winding course,
Yet ever speeds to its appointed source,
So canst thou mould his powers, and bend his will,
And fit him for thy sovereign purpose still;
In thee I trust—in this firm hope rejoice,
Lift upward to thy throne my grateful voice,
Bend to my prayers—thy needed strength impart,
