How Manifold Are Thy Works!
By May Wakeham
How manifold Thy works, O Lord,
How bright Thy glories shine!
All Nature's voices in accord,
Declare Thou art divine. Thou dwellest in the "holy place"
Beyond the mortal view,
Yet hast Thou left us many a trace
Of what Thy hands can do. We see Thee in the mighty deep,
Or brooklet's silver sheen,
Or in the tiny flowers that peep
From out their beds of green. Thou ridest on the wingéd wind
That fans the mountain's brow,
And on old Ocean's waves of brine
Thy stately footsteps go. Thou speakest, and the thunder crash
Is heard on sea and land,
And rain and hail and lightning flash
Go forth at Thy command. Thy breath sendeth forth ice and snow;
Nature seemeth congealed.
Thou makest gentle zephyrs blow—
New beauties stand revealed. Thou part'st the curtains of the night,
And there appear to view
A serried host arrayed in light,
Bedecking heaven's blue. Yea, teeming worlds dash on through space,
Held by Thy mighty word,
Each keeping its appointed place,
Obedient to their Lord. Ages on ages roll along,
Vast empires rise and fall;
Man's greatest works fade like a song;
Death covers with a pall. Thou changest not. Divinity
Knoweth nor time nor change.
Thou holdest vast infinity
Within Thy vision's range. O God, how measureless the sum
Of power and love divine!
Our hearts and lips with awe are dumb.
We bow before Thy shrine. Thou mighty One, Thou King of Kings,
Who fillest eternity,
How canst Thou stoop to mortal things,
Mere atoms such as we, To rebels who have dared to raise
Their weak and puny hands
Against Thy true and holy laws,
Thy wise and just commands! But love and grace, O mighty One,
A never-ebbing tide,
Flow out forever from Thy throne,
Unmeasured, deep, and wide. This God is ours forevermore.
We rest beneath His wings.
With hearts and voices we adore,
And crown Him King of Kings. Port Townsend, Washington.