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Treasury of Sacred Song
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CCCLXXIX

Praise to the Holiest in the height,

And in the depth be praise:

In all His words most wonderful;

Most sure in all His ways!

Woe to thee, man! for he was found

A recreant in the fight;

And lost his heritage of heaven,

And fellowship with light.

Above him now the angry sky,

Around the tempest's din;

Who once had Angels for his friends,

Had but the brutes for kin.

O man! a savage kindred they;

To flee that monster brood

He scaled the seaside cave, and clomb

The giants of the wood.

With now a fear, and now a hope,

With aids which chance supplied,

From youth to eld, from sire to son,

He lived, and toil'd, and died.

He dreed his penance age by age;

And step by step began

Slowly to doff his savage garb,

And be again a man.

And quicken'd by the Almighty's breath

And chasten'd by His rod,

And taught by angel-visitings,

At length he sought his GOD;

And learn'd to call upon His Name,

And in His faith create

A household and a father-land,

A city and a state.

Glory to Him who from the mire,

In patient length of days,

Elaborated into life

A people to His praise!

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