God Worshipped in His Works

"The heavens declare the glory of God: and the firmament showeth his handy work. Day unto day uttereth speech, and night unto night showeth knowledge. There is no speech nor language where their voice is not heard." — Ps. 19. 1, 2, 3.

Men use a different speech in different climes,
But Nature hath one voice and only one.
Her wandering moon, her stars, her golden sun,
Her woods and waters, in all lands and times,
In one deep song proclaim the wondrous story.
They tell it to each other in the sky,
Upon the winds they send it sounding high,
Jehovah's wisdom, goodness, power, and glory.
I hear it come from mountain, cliff, and tree,
Ten thousand voices in one voice united;
On every side the song encircles me,
The whole round world reveres and is delighted.
Ah! why, when heaven and earth lift up their voice,
Ah! why should man alone nor worship nor rejoice!

— The Religious Offering (1835) XXVI.

God Worshipped in His Works

"The heavens declare the glory of God: and the firmament showeth his handy work. Day unto day uttereth speech, and night unto night showeth knowledge. There is no speech nor language where their voice is not heard." — Ps. 19. 1, 2, 3.

Men use a different speech in different climes,
But Nature hath one voice and only one.
Her wandering moon, her stars, her golden sun,
Her woods and waters, in all lands and times,
In one deep song proclaim the wondrous story.
They tell it to each other in the sky,
Upon the winds they send it sounding high,
Jehovah's wisdom, goodness, power, and glory.
I hear it come from mountain, cliff, and tree,
Ten thousand voices in one voice united;
On every side the song encircles me,
The whole round world reveres and is delighted.
Ah! why, when heaven and earth lift up their voice,
Ah! why should man alone nor worship nor rejoice?

— from The Religious Offering (1835) XXVI.

Restoration to the Divine Image

"We are changed into the same image from glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord." — 2 Cor. 3.18.

Upon the morning flower the dew's small drop,
So small as scarcely to arrest the eye,
Receives the rays from all of heaven's wide cope,
And images the bright and boundless sky.
And thus the heart, when 'tis renewed by grace,
Recalled from error, purified, erect,
Receives the image of Jehovah's face,
And though a drop, the Godhead doth reflect.
It hath new light, new truth, new purity,
A rectitude unknown in former time,
A love, that in its arms of charity
Encircles every land and every clime;
Submission, and in God a humble trust,
And quickened life to all that's pure and kind and just.

— The Religious Offering (1835) VIII.

Jehovah, Sov'reign of My Heart

Jehovah, sov'reign of my heart!

My joy by night and day!

From Thee, oh may I never part,

From thee, ne'er go astray.

Whene'er allurements round me stand,

And tempt me from my choice;

Oh,  let me find thy gracious hand,

Oh,  let me hear thy voice.

This vain and feeble heart, I know,

To worldly ways is prone;

But penitential tears shall show,

There's joy in Thee alone.

With God all darkness turns to day;

With Him all sorrows flee;

Thou art the true and living way,

And I will walk in Thee.

— Religious Maxims (1846).

How Happy Is the Peaceful Breast

How happy is the peaceful breast,
No agitating strife that knows; —
Through which the stream of holy rest
In one unbroken current flows?

To few, alas, that rest is given; —
And who can claim it as his own,
But he, who makes his heart a heaven,
And seats Jehovah on its throne.

Jehovah! Sovereign of the soul!
He has no throne but that within;
And grief and strife can ne'er control,
Where God destroys the reign of sin.

'Tis sin, that agitates the mind,
While sorrow, like the clouded sky,
Illumin'd soon, leaves nought behind,
But fields of light and purity.

— American Cottage Life (1850).

Jehovah, Sov'reign of my Heart

Jehovah, sov'reign of my heart!
My joy by night and day!
From Thee, oh may I never part,
From Thee ne'er go astray.

Whene'er allurements round me stand,
And tempt me from my choice;
Oh, let me find thy gracious hand,
Oh, let me hear thy voice.

This vain and feeble heart, I know,
To worldly ways is prone;
But penitential tears shall show,
There's joy in Thee alone.

With God all darkness turns to day;
With Him all sorrows flee;
Thou art the true and living way,
And I will walk in Thee.

— American Cottage Life (1850).