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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=416317" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Psalm CIV. Paraphrased</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">To praise thy Author, Soul, do not forget; <br>Canst thou, in gratitude, deny the debt? <br>Lord, thou art great, how great we cannot know; <br>Honour and majesty do round thee flow. <br>The purest rays of primogenial light <br>Compose thy robes, and make them dazzling bright; <br>The heavens and all the wide spread orbs on high <br>Thou like a curtain stretch'd of curious dye; <br>On the devouring flood thy chambers are <br>Establish'd; a lofty cloud's thy car; <br>Which quick through the ethereal road doth fly, <br>On swift wing'd winds, that shake the troubled sky. <br>Of spiritual substance angels thou didst frame, <br>Active and bright, piercing and quick as flame. <br>Thou'st firmly founded this unwieldy earth; <br>Stand fast for aye, thou saidst, at nature's birth. <br>The swelling flood thou o'er the earth madest creep, <br>And coveredst it with the vast hoary deep: <br>Then hills and vales did no distinction know, <br>But level'd nature lay oppress'd below. <br>With speed they, at thy awful thunder's roar, <br>Shrinked within the limits of their shore. <br>Through secret tracts they up the mountains creep, <br>And rocky caverns fruitful moisture weep, <br>Which sweetly through the verdant vales doth glide, <br>Till 'tis devoured by the greedy tide. <br>The feeble sands thou'st made the ocean's mounds, <br>Its foaming waves shall ne'er repass these bounds, <br>Again to triumph over the dry grounds. <br>Between the hills, grazed by the bleating kind, <br>Soft warbling rills their mazy way do find; <br>By him appointed fully to supply, <br>When the hot dogstar fires the realms on high, <br>The raging thirst of every sickening beast, <br>Of the wild ass that roams the dreary waste: <br>The feather'd nations, by their smiling sides, <br>In lowly brambles, or in trees abide; <br>By nature taught, on them they rear their nests, <br>That with inimitable art are dress'd. <br>They for the shade and safety of the wood <br>With natural music cheer the neighbourhood. <br>He doth the clouds with genial moisture fill, <br>Which on the [shr]ivel'd ground they bounteously distil, <br>And nature's lap with various blessings crowd: <br>The giver, God! all creatures cry aloud. <br>With freshest green he clothes the fragrant mead, <br>Whereon the grazing herds wanton and feed. <br>With vital juice he makes the plants abound, <br>And herbs securely spring above the ground, <br>That man may be sustain'd beneath the toil <br>Of manuring the ill producing soil; <br>Which with a plenteous harvest does at last <br>Cancel the memory of labours past; <br>Yields him the product of the generous vine, <br>And balmy oil that makes his face to shine: <br>Fills all his granaries with a loaden crop, <br>Against the bare barren winter his great prop. <br>The trees of God with kindly sap do swell, <br>E'en cedars tall in Lebanon that dwell, <br>Upon whose lofty tops the birds erect <br>Their nests, as careful nature does direct. <br>The long neck'd storks unto the fir trees fly, <br>And with their cackling cries disturb the sky. <br>To unfrequented hills wild goats resort, <br>And on bleak rocks the nimble conies sport. <br>The changing moon he clad with silver light, <br>To check the black dominion of the night: <br>High through the skies in silent state she rides, <br>And by her rounds the fleeting time divides. <br>The circling sun doth in due time decline, <br>And unto shades the murmuring world resign. <br>Dark night thou makest succeed the cheerful day, <br>Which forest beasts from their lone caves survey: <br>They rouse themselves, creep out, and search their prey. <br>Young hungry lions from their dens come out, <br>And, mad on blood, stalk fearfully about: <br>They break night's silence with their hideous roar, <br>And from kind heaven their nightly prey implore. <br>Just as the lark begins to stretch her wing, <br>And, flickering on her nest, makes short essays to sing, <br>And the sweet dawn, with a faint glimmering light, <br>Unveils the face of nature to the sight, <br>To their dark dens they take their hasty flight. <br>Not so the husbandman,—for with the sun <br>He does his pleasant course of labours run: <br>Home with content in the cool e'en returns, <br>And his sweet toils until the morn adjourns. <br>How many are thy wondrous works, O Lord! <br>They of thy wisdom solid proofs afford: <br>Out of thy boundless goodness thou didst fill, <br>With riches and delights, both vale and hill: <br>E'en the broad ocean, wherein do abide <br>Monsters that flounce upon the boiling tide, <br>And swarms of lesser beasts and fish beside: <br>'Tis there that daring ships before the wind <br>Do send amain, and make the port assign'd: <br>'Tis there that Leviathan sports and plays, <br>And spouts his water in the face of day; <br>For food with gaping mouth they wait on thee, <br>If thou withhold'st, they pine, they faint, they die. <br>Thou bountifully opest thy liberal hand, <br>And scatter'st plenty both on sea and land. <br>Thy vital spirit makes all things live below, <br>The face of nature with new beauties glow. <br>God's awful glory ne'er will have an end, <br>To vast eternity it will extend. <br>When he surveys his works, at the wide sight <br>He doth rejoice, and take divine delight. <br>His looks the earth into its centre shakes; <br>A touch of his to smoke the mountains makes. <br>I'll to God's honour consecrate my lays, <br>And when I cease to be I'll cease to praise. <br>Upon the Lord, a sublime lofty theme, <br>My meditations sweet, my joys supreme. <br>Let daring sinners feel thy vengeful rod, <br>May they no more be known by their abode. <br>My soul and all my powers. O bless the Lord, <br>And the whole race of men with one accord.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=James+Thomson">James Thomson</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=416317" data-title="Psalm CIV. Paraphrased de James Thomson" data-description="To praise thy Author, Soul, do not forget; 
Canst thou, in gratitude, deny the debt? 
Lord, thou art great, how great we cannot know; 
Honour and majesty do round thee flow. 
The purest rays of primogenial light 
Compose thy robes, and make them d..."></div>
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