| |
| AS to an ancient temple | |
| Whose vast proportions tower | |
| With summit inaccessible | |
| Among the stars of Heaven; | |
| While the resistless Ocean | 5 |
| Of peoples and of cities | |
| Breaks at its feet in foam, | |
| Work that a hundred ages | |
| Hallow; I bow to Thee. | |
| |
| From out thy mighty bosom | 10 |
| Rise hymns sublime, and melodies | |
| Like to the Heavens singing | |
| Praises to their Creator; | |
| While at the sound, an ecstasy, | |
| A trance, fills all my being | 15 |
| With terror and with awe— | |
| I feel my proud heart thrilling | |
| With throbs of holy pride. | |
| |
| Oh! come, Thou high, beneficent | |
| Heritage of my fathers, | 20 |
| Our country, altar, prophet! | |
| Thou art our all, Thou only. | |
| Through doubt, through pain, through outrage, | |
| Through pangs of dissolution | |
| Wringing our tortured hearts; | 25 |
| Come, open the rosy portals | |
| Of hope to us once more! | |
| |
| In Thee, eternal, limitless, | |
| The Earth is bound to Heaven; | |
| The ages in immensity | 30 |
| Are one in Thine infinity; | |
| Rapt by Thy power, the Spirit | |
| Springs ever high and higher | |
| Through care and grief and love, | |
| Groans in mysterious ecstasy, | 35 |
| Exults in bitter pain. | |
| |
| Idylls of love and tenderness, | |
| Home joys and pure affections, | |
| Voices of Hope unconquered | |
| By torture or by agony, | 40 |
| Austere and fruitful suffering, | |
| Terror and doubt and faith, | |
| Oh! for the whole Creation | |
| A voice is found in Thee. | |
| |
| Like an inspired Sibyl | 45 |
| Thou thunderest in anger, | |
| Tyre, Babylon, demolished, | |
| Vanish with throne and altar; | |
| Thou singest, Heaven lets open, | |
| Mankind awakes to harmony | 50 |
| And holy truth and peace; | |
| Like blessed springs descending, | |
| Thou fillest all the world. | |
| |
| Ah me! what countless miseries, | |
| What tears all unregarded | 55 |
| Hast Thou consoled and softened | |
| With gentle voice and holy! | |
| How many hearts that struggle | |
| With doubt, remorse, anxiety, | |
| With all the woes of ages, | 60 |
| Dost Thou, on ample pinions, | |
| Lift purified to Heaven! | |
| |
