C.D. Warner, et al., comp. The Library of the World’s Best Literature.
An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.
Thou Art, O God
By Thomas Moore (17791852)
T
Of all this wondrous world we see;
Its glow by day, its smile by night,
Are but reflections caught from thee;
Where’er we turn, thy glories shine,
And all things fair and bright are thine!
Among the opening clouds of even,
And we can almost think we gaze
Through golden vistas into heaven,
Those hues, that make the sun’s decline
So soft, so radiant, Lord! are thine.
O’ershadows all the earth and skies,
Like some dark, beauteous bird, whose plume
Is sparkling with unnumbered eyes,
That sacred gloom, those fires divine,
So grand, so countless, Lord! are thine.
Thy spirit warms her fragrant sigh;
And every flower the summer wreathes
Is born beneath that kindling eye.
Where’er we turn, thy glories shine,
And all things fair and bright are thine.