Poems (Hale)/The one hundred thirty-ninth Psalm
PARAPHRASE OF THE ONE HUNDRED THIRTY-NINTH PSALM.
O thou Eternal Source of every good!Whose eye surveys creation's utmost bound,Whose piercing glance my secret soul can read,And mark the errors that are lurking there,How shall I seek Thy face, how raise to TheeThe imperfect thoughts by worldly care debased?How purify those thoughts, and make them meetWith Thee, Supreme Perfection, to commune?Nothing is from Thy searching glances hid;And ere my thoughts are known unto myself,Thou, God, canst understand each secret wish,Each aspiration for eternal truth,Each groveling hope to earthly things confined.
How can imperfect mortals comprehendEternal Wisdom? How can sinful manAspire to hold communion with the GodMost Mighty and Most Good? Vainly our mindsDesire to penetrate Thy Wisdom's spring,Hidden from mortal eye, but clear and brightTo Him who first created earth and heaven.Our minds, though heaven-illumined, cannot graspSuch knowledge. I would flee thy presence dread,And seek a spot to Thy pure gaze unknown.
I may not enter heaven; for there thy glanceWould overwhelm my spirit. Could I bear That eye, whose light would pierce my inmost soul?And should I make my bed where spirits darkDwell in the silence of the under world,There, too, Thine eye would see my face, and thereThe glance of Thy displeasure would upbraidThe heartless, cold ingratitude of oneWho gave Thee not devotion's fervent prayer,Rich incense rising from a grateful heart,—A heart which glowed with an immortal flame,A temple meet for Thee.
Or should I seek,Upon the wings of morn, the ocean depths,Behold, Thy piercing glance looks there,—a glanceUndimmed by the destructive flight of time:Thy hand would guide me through its mazy depths.Should I desire the shielding veil of night,Thine eye could penetrate its shadowy folds.All, all is clear to Thee. Is not the nightThe same as day to thy unclouded eye?
Let me not flee thy presence. Let me seekNearer and dearer intercourse with HimWhose word created me. Great are Thy works,And in the fulness of Thy boundless power,Thou raisedst me from dust. Upon my soulThine own immortal image didst Thou stamp,And give me power to fit that soul to dwellForever in Thy sight.
Precious to me, O God!The gracious promises Thy word reveals;Precious the hope of everlasting life, A vast eternity passed near to Thee.There shall no clouds of sin my sight obstruct,Nor mist of error veil thy face from me:There shall I see that face, there taste the bliss,The joys of heaven. Father! enthroned on high!O! search my heart. Hush each unholy thought.Quell the fierce storm of anger. Make my soulHumble and grateful to its Gracious Source.Fill it with holy hope and perfect faithIn Thy decrees. Let no repining thoughtEscape the lips enkindled at Thy shrine,With the pure flame of love. Let perfect love,Greater than hope or faith, my bosom fill,—Love for the-human race.
And O! when deathShall set his icy seal upon my brow,And earth, with all its scenes, fades from my view,Grant me Thy changeless light, the light of truth,That points my soul to realms of endless day.There shall that soul, from earthly care set free,Breathe forth to Thee its speechless gratitude.