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Russian Ode to the Deity.
Lamps of celestial ether burning bright?
Suns lighting systems with their joyous beams? But thou to those art as the noon to night.
Yet, as a drop of water in the sea.
All this magnificence in thee is lost :
What are a thousand worlds compar'd to thee? And what am 1, when heaven's unnumber'd host, Though multiplied by myriads, and arrayed In all the glory of sublimest thought, Is but an atom in the balance weighed Against thy greatness—is a cypher brought Against infinity? What am I, then? Nought! Nought! But the effluence of thy light divine, Pervading worlds, hath reach'd my bosom, too; Yes, in my spirit doth thy Spirit shine, As shines the sunbeam in a drop of dew. Nought! But I live, and on Hope's pinions fly Eager towards thy presence; for in thee I live and breathe and dwell,—aspiring high, Even to the throne of thy divinity.
1 am, O God! and surely thou must be ! Thou art,-directing, guiding all,—thou art! Direct my understanding, then, to thee; Control my spirit-guide my wandering heart: Though but an atom midst immensity, Still I am something fashion'd by thy hand,- I hold a middle rank, 'twixt heaven and earth,
On the last verge of mortal being stand,
Close to the realms where angels have their birth, Just on the boundary of the spirit land!
me,—
The chain of being is complete in In me is matter's last gradation lost, And the next step is spirit—Deity ! I can command the lightning, and am dust— A monarch and a slave-a worm, a God, Concentrated here! and how? so marvelously. Constructed and conceived, unknown? this clod Lives surely through some higher energy; From out itself alone it could not be. Creator! Yes thy wisdom and thy word Created me. Thou source of life and good! Thou spirit of my spirit, and my Lord! Thy light, thy love, in their bright plenitude Filled me with an immortal soul, to spring Over the abyss of death, and bade it wear The garments of eternal day, and wing Its heavenly flight beyond this little sphere Even to its source-to thee, its Author-thee!
O, thought ineffable! O, vision blest! (Though worthless our conceptions all of thee) Yet shall thy shadow'd image fill our breast, And waft its homage to thy Deity.
God! thus alone my lowly thoughts can soar- Thus seek thy presence: Being wise and good! 'Midst thy vast works, admire, obey, adore; And when the tongue is eloquent no more. The soul shall speak in tears of gratitude.
MAY,