Image courtesy of the Library of Congress
Great God ! within Thy glorious temple, mute with awe
We stand and listen to the pealing hymn
Of thine Omnipotence. In all this wide, wide world
Where can earth’s children go to learn a grander lesson
Of Thy Majesty ? What human tongues with burning
Words of power can tell Thy glories and Thine awful might,
Or stir the doubting heart of man, as this sublime
Creation of Thy mind Divine ? Here, fashioned by
Thy mighty hand, Nature’s gigantic organ stands,
And ceaselessly rolls forth terrific notes of praise.
Here Thine established choir forever thunder forth.
In grandly thrilling tones, a mystic song of
Thine unfathomable, infinite power. Here Thou hast
Placed Thy solid altar on the shores of Time, and from
Thy very lips the overpowering strains of holy eloquence
Burst forth.
Who can withstand the heavenly music of Thy voice ;
Who can, with heart unstirred, behold the amazing
Splendor of Thine earthly court ; who can gaze on this
Matchless structure by Thy fingers wrought, and calmly say,
There is no living God ?
…………………………….Here let the boasting and the
Lofty come and feel their nothingness ; here let the
Sophist bring his treacherous creed, and obtain from
Jehovah’s book logic invincible. Here let the stolid
And unthinking come and start their sleeping
Senses from the sluggish trance. Here let the yearning
Spirit and aspiring come, and, climbing Nature’s ladder,
Grasp the reaching hand of God.
………………………………………Here the weary-hearted
May sweet comfort find when resting on the shining
Banks ; life-giving draughts from beauty’s fountain
They may quaff, and from the appalling depths and
Awful rush of waters wild look up, where, ever arching
O’er the temple’s misty veil, the radiant bow of promise
Sheds its cheering rays. So shall the glorious emblem
Of Thy mercy teach the sorrowing heart, that o’er each
Dread abyss of human woe, each fearful path, where
Life’s fierce tempests beat, the golden promise of
Thy love and pity hangs. Here let the heart be
Humbled to the dust, and no vain thought of
Mortal consequence intrude.
…………………………………Oh, if these forest sentinels
That ages long have watched the glories of this sacred
Shrine, still with emotion shake, and join their trembling
Voices in the tremendous hymn, shall not weak
Mortals lowly bend, and in the footsteps of their
Father, God, a loving tribute cast — not with a craven
Thought of human fear — at the overwhelming power of
His arm, but holiest love and adoration give,
Ever rejoicing with ecstatic joy that they are off-springs
Of so glorious a sire.
Source: Mary J. Wines. Infant Harper and Other Poems. Cambridge, Mass.: Hurd & Houghton, 1874, p. 193-195