YREATOR Spirit, by whose aid,
The world's foundations first were laid,
Come visit every waiting mind;
Come pour thy joys on human kind;
From sin and sorrow set us free,
And make thy temples worthy thee.
2 O source of uncreated light,
The Father's promised Paraclete !
Thrice holy fount, thrice holy fire,
Our hearts with heavenly love inspire;
Come, and thy sacred unction bring,
To sanctify us while we sing.
3 Refine and purge our earthly parts;
But, oh, inflame and fire our hearts!
Our frailties help, our vice controul,
Submit the senses to the soul;
And when rebellious they are grown,
Then lay thy hand, and hold them down.
4 Chase from our minds th' infernal foe,
And peace, the fruit of love, bestow;
And, lest our feet should step astray,
Protect and guide us in the way;
Make us eternal truths receive,
And practise all that we believe.
PLACT on the verge of youth, my mind
Life's opening scene surveys;
O'er all it's ills of various kind,
With awful fear I gaze.
2 O how shall I, with heart prepar'd,
It's terrors learn to meet?
How from it's thousand snares to guard
My unexperienc'd feet?
3 Let faith suppress each rising fear,
Each anxious doubt exclude;
My Maker's will has plac'd me here,
A Maker wise and good.
4 He to my every trial knows
It's just restraint to give;
Attentive to behold my woes,
And faithful to relieve.
5 Then why thus heavy, O my soul,
Say why, distrustful still,
Thy thoughts with vain impatience roll
O'er scenes of future ill?
6 Though griefs unnumber'd throng thee round, Still in thy God confide,
Whose finger marks the seas their bound
And curbs the headlong tide!
IVE works of God, on him alone,
In earth his footstool, heaven his throne,
Be all your praise bestow'd;
Whose hand the beauteous fabric made,
Whose eye the finish'd work survey'd,
And saw that all was good.
2 Ye angels, that with loud acclaim
Admiring view'd the new-born frame,
And hail'd th' eternal King,
Again proclaim your Maker's praise,
Again your thankful voices raise,
And touch the tuneful string.
3 Praise him, ye blest ethereal plains,
Where, in full majesty, he deigns
To fix his awful throne:
Ye waters that around him roll,
From orb to orb, from pole to pole,
O make his praises known!
4 Ye thrones, dominions, virtues, powers,
Join ye your joyful song with our's;
With us your voices raise;
From age to age extend the lay,
To heaven's Eternal Monarch pay
Hymns of eternal praise.
5 Ye spirits of the just and good,
That, eager for the blest abode,
To heavenly mansions soar :
O let your songs his praise display,
Till heaven itself shall melt away,
And time shall be no more!
6 Praise him ye meek and humble train,
Ye saints, whom his decrees ordain
The boundless bliss to share ;
O praise him, till ye take your way
To regions of eternal day,
And reign for ever there!
ELESTIAL orb! whose powerful ray
Opes the glad eyelids of the day,
Whose influence all things own;
Praise him whose courts effulgent shine
With light as far excelling thine,
As thine the paler moon.
2 Ye glittering planets of the sky,
Whose lamps the absent sun supply,
With him the song pursue;
And let himself submissive own,
He borrows from a brighter sun
The light he lends to you,
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