English poem
Hymn at Sea
by Mather Byles (1828–1900)
Great GOD, thy Works our Wonder raise, To thee our swelling Notes belong; While Skies, and Winds, and Rocks, and Seas, Around shall echo to our Song.
Thy Pow'r produc'd this mighty Frame, Aloud to thee the Tempests rore, Or softer Breezes tune thy Name Gently along the shelly Shore.
Round thee the scaly Nation roves, Thy op'ning Hands their Joys bestow, Thro' all the blushing coral Groves, These silent, gay Retreats below.
See the broad Sun forsake the Skies, Glow on the Waves, and downward slide! Anon, Heav'n opens all its Eyes, And Star-Beams tremble o'er the Tyde:
Each various Scene, or Day or Night, LORD, points to thee our ravish'd Soul; Thy Glories fix our whole Delight: So the touch'd Needle courts the Pole.