O Thou, the First, the Greatest Friend

O Thou

the first

the great­est friend

Of all the hu­man race!

Whose strong right hand has ev­er been

Their stay and dwell­ing place!

Before the mount­ains heaved their heads

Beneath Thy form­ing hand;

Before this pon­der­ous globe it­self

Arose at Thy com­mand;

That pow­er which raised

and still up­holds

This uni­vers­al frame

From count­less

un­be­gin­ning time

Was ev­er still the same.

Those migh­ty pe­ri­ods of years

Which seem to us so vast

Appear no more be­fore Thy sight

Than yes­ter­day that’s past.

Thou giv’st the word: Thy crea­ture

man

Is to ex­ist­ence brought;

Again Thou say’st

Ye sons of men

Return ye in­to nought!

Thou lay­est them

with all their cares

In ev­er­last­ing sleep;

As with a flood Thou tak’st them off

With ov­er­whelm­ing sweep.

They flour­ish like the morn­ing flow­er

In beau­ty’s pride ar­rayed;

But long ere night cut down it lies

All wi­thered and de­cayed.