1 Can creatures to perfection find
Th’ eternal, uncreated Mind?
Or can the largest stretch of thought
Measure and search His nature out?
2 ’Tis high as Heav’n, ’tis deep as hell
And what can mortals know or tell?
His glory spreads beyond the sky,
And all the shining worlds on high.
3 But man, vain man, would fain be wise;
Born like a wild young colt, He flies
Through all the follies of His mind,
And swells, and snuffs the empty wind.
4 God is a king of power unknown,
Firm are the orders of His throne;
If He resolve, who dares oppose,
Or ask him why or what He does?
5 He wounds the heart, and He makes whole
He calms the tempest of the soul;
When He shuts up in long despair,
Who can remove the heavy bar?
6 He frowns, and darkness veils the moon;
The fainting sun grows dim at noon;
The pillars of Heav’n’s starry roof
Tremble and start at His reproof.
7 He gave the vaulted Heav’n its form,
The crooked serpent, and the worm;
He breaks the billows with His breath,
And smites the sons of pride to death.
8 These are a portion of His ways;
But who shall dare describe His face?
Who can endure His light, or stand
To hear the thunders of His hand?