THE IMAGE OF GOD.
Thou! art thou like to God?
(I ask'd this question of the glorious sun)
Thou high unwearied one,
Whose course in heat, and light, and life is run?
Eagles may view thy face—clouds can assuage
Thy fiery wrath—the sage
Can mete thy stature—thou shalt fade with age.
Thou art not like to God.
