God of the Rolling Orbs Above

God of the roll­ing orbs ab­ove

Thy name is writ­ten clear­ly bright:

Warm in the day’s un­va­ry­ing blaze

And ev­en­ing’s gold­en show­er of light.

For ev­ery fire that fronts the sun

And ev­ery spark that walks alone

Around the ut­most verge of Heav’n

Was kin­dled at Thy burn­ing throne.

God of the world

the hour must come

And na­ture’s self to dust re­turn;

Her crumb­ling al­tars must de­cay;

Her in­cense fires shall cease to burn:

But still her grand and love­ly scenes

Have made man’s warm­est prais­es flow;

For hearts grow ho­li­er

as they trace

The beau­ty of the world be­low.