II.

Upon Thy face, O God, thy world Looks ever up in love and awe; Thy stars, in circles onward hurled, Still weave the sacred chain of law.

In alternating antiphons Stream sings to stream and sea to sea; And moons that set and sinking suns Obeisance make, O God, to Thee.

The swallow, winter's rage o'erblown, Again, on warm May breezes borne, Revisiteth her haunts well-known; The lark is faithful to the morn.

The whirlwind, missioned with its wings To drown the fleet and fell the tower, Obeys thee as the bird that sings Her love-chant in a fleeting shower.

Amid an ordered universe Man's spirit only dares rebel:— With light, O God, its darkness pierce! With love its raging chaos quell!