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Even honors are punishments.

Corsican proverbs
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I And I

Been so long since a strange woman has slept in my bed.
Look how sweet she sleeps, how free must be her dreams.
In another lifetime she must have owned the world, or been faithfully wed
To some righteous king who wrote psalms beside moonlit streams.
I and i
In creation where ones nature neither honors nor forgives.
I and i
One says to the other, no man sees my face and lives.
Think Ill go out and go for a walk,
Not much happenin here, nothin ever does.
Besides, if she wakes up now, shell just want me to talk
I got nothin to say, specially about whatever was.
I and i
In creation where ones nature neither honors nor forgives.
I and i
One says to the other, no man sees my face and lives.
Took an untrodden path once, where the swift dont win the race,
It goes to the worthy, who can divide the word of truth.
Took a stranger to teach me, to look into justices beautiful face
And to see an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.
I and i
In creation where ones nature neither honors nor forgives.
I and i
One says to the other, no man sees my face and lives.
Outside of two men on a train platform theres nobody in sight,
Theyre waiting for spring to come, smoking down the track.
The world could come to an end tonight, but thats all right.
She should still be there sleepin when I get back.
I and i
In creation where ones nature neither honors nor forgives.
I and i
One says to the other, no man sees my face and lives.
Noontime, and Im still pushin myself along the road, the darkest part,
Into the narrow lanes, I cant stumble or stay put.
Someone else is speakin with my mouth, but Im listening only to my heart.
Ive made shoes for everyone, even you, while I still go barefoot.
I and i
In creation where ones nature neither honors nor forgives.
I and i
One says to the other, no man sees my face and lives.

song performed by Bob Dylan
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I & I

Been so long since a strange woman has slept in my bed.
Look how sweet she sleeps, how free must be her dreams.
In another lifetime she must have owned the world, or been faithfully wed
To some righteous king who wrote psalms beside moonlit streams.
I and i
In creation where ones nature neither honors nor forgives.
I and i
One says to the other, no man sees my face and lives.
Think Ill go out and go for a walk,
Not much happenin here, nothin ever does.
Besides, if she wakes up now, shell just want me to talk
I got nothin to say, specially about whatever was.
I and i
In creation where ones nature neither honors nor forgives.
I and i
One says to the other, no man sees my face and lives.
Took an untrodden path once, where the swift dont win the race,
It goes to the worthy, who can divide the word of truth.
Took a stranger to teach me, to look into justices beautiful face
And to see an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.
I and i
In creation where ones nature neither honors nor forgives.
I and i
One says to the other, no man sees my face and lives.
Outside of two men on a train platform theres nobody in sight,
Theyre waiting for spring to come, smoking down the track.
The world could come to an end tonight, but thats all right.
She should still be there sleepin when I get back.
I and i
In creation where ones nature neither honors nor forgives.
I and i
One says to the other, no man sees my face and lives.
Noontime, and Im still pushin myself along the road, the darkest part,
Into the narrow lanes, I cant stumble or stay put.
Someone else is speakin with my mouth, but Im listening only to my heart.
Ive made shoes for everyone, even you, while I still go barefoot.
I and i
In creation where ones nature neither honors nor forgives.
I and i
One says to the other, no man sees my face and lives.

song performed by Bob Dylan
Added by Lucian Velea
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Polyhymnia

[Polyhymnia: Describing, The honourable Triumph at Tylt,
before her Maiestie, on the 17. of Nouember, last past,
being the first day of the three and thirtith yeare of
her Highnesse raigne. With Sir Henrie Lea, his resignation
of honour at Tylt, to her Maiestie, and receiued by the right
honourable, the Earle of Cumberland.]

[Polyhimnia. Entituled, with all dutie to the Right
Honourable, Lord Compton of Compton.]

Therefore, when thirtie two were come and gone,
Years of her raigne, daies of her countries peace,
Elizabeth great Empresse of the world,
Britanias Atlas, Star of Englands globe,
That swaies the massie scepter of her land,
And holdes the royall raynes of Albion:
Began the gladsome sunnie day to shine,
That drawes in length date of her golden raigne:
And thirtie three shee numbreth in her throne:
That long in happinesse and peace (I pray)
May number manie to these thirtie three.
Wherefore it fares as whilom and of yore,
In armour bright and sheene, faire Englands knights
In honour of their peerelesse Soueraigne:
High Maistresse of their seruice, thoughtes and liues
Make to the Tyltamaine: and trumpets sound,
And princelie Coursers neigh, and champ the byt,
When all addrest for deeds of high deuoyre,
Preace to the sacred presence of their Prince.

The 1. couple. Sir Henrie Lea. The Earle of Cumberland.

Mightie in Armes, mounted on puissant horse,
Knight of the Crown in rich imbroderie,
And costlie faire Caparison charg'd with Crownes,
Oreshadowed with a withered running Vine,
As who would say, My spring of youth is past:
In Corslet gylt of curious workmanship,
Sir Henry Lea, redoubted man at Armes.
Leades in the troopes, whom woorthie Cumberland
Thrice noble Earle, aucutred as became
So greate a Warriour and so good a Knight.
Encountred first, yclad in coate of steele,
And plumes and pendants al as white as Swanne,
And speare in rest, right readie to performe
What long'd vnto the honour of the place.
Together went these Champions, horse and man,
Thundring along the Tylt, that at the shocke

[...] Read more

poem by George Peele
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The Aeneid of Virgil: Book 10

THE GATES of heav’n unfold: Jove summons all
The gods to council in the common hall.
Sublimely seated, he surveys from far
The fields, the camp, the fortune of the war,
And all th’ inferior world. From first to last, 5
The sov’reign senate in degrees are plac’d.
Then thus th’ almighty sire began: “Ye gods,
Natives or denizens of blest abodes,
From whence these murmurs, and this change of mind,
This backward fate from what was first design’d? 10
Why this protracted war, when my commands
Pronounc’d a peace, and gave the Latian lands?
What fear or hope on either part divides
Our heav’ns, and arms our powers on diff’rent sides?
A lawful time of war at length will come, 15
(Nor need your haste anticipate the doom),
When Carthage shall contend the world with Rome,
Shall force the rigid rocks and Alpine chains,
And, like a flood, come pouring on the plains.
Then is your time for faction and debate, 20
For partial favor, and permitted hate.
Let now your immature dissension cease;
Sit quiet, and compose your souls to peace.”
Thus Jupiter in few unfolds the charge;
But lovely Venus thus replies at large: 25
“O pow’r immense, eternal energy,
(For to what else protection can we fly?)
Seest thou the proud Rutulians, how they dare
In fields, unpunish’d, and insult my care?
How lofty Turnus vaunts amidst his train, 30
In shining arms, triumphant on the plain?
Ev’n in their lines and trenches they contend,
And scarce their walls the Trojan troops defend:
The town is fill’d with slaughter, and o’erfloats,
With a red deluge, their increasing moats. 35
Æneas, ignorant, and far from thence,
Has left a camp expos’d, without defense.
This endless outrage shall they still sustain?
Shall Troy renew’d be forc’d and fir’d again?
A second siege my banish’d issue fears, 40
And a new Diomede in arms appears.
One more audacious mortal will be found;
And I, thy daughter, wait another wound.
Yet, if with fates averse, without thy leave,
The Latian lands my progeny receive, 45
Bear they the pains of violated law,
And thy protection from their aid withdraw.
But, if the gods their sure success foretell;
If those of heav’n consent with those of hell,
To promise Italy; who dare debate 50

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poem by Publius Vergilius Maro
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Psalm 147

v.7-9,13-18
C. M.
The seasons of the year.

With songs and honors sounding loud,
Address the Lord on high;
Over the heav'ns he spreads his cloud,
And waters veil the sky.

He sends his showers of blessing down
To cheer the plains below;
He makes the grass the mountains crown,
And corn in valleys grow.

He gives the grazing ox his meat,
He hears the raven's cry;
But man, who tastes his finest wheat,
Should raise his honors high.

His steady counsels change the face
Of the declining year;
He bids the sun cut short his race,
And wintry days appear.

His hoary frost, his fleecy snow,
Descend and clothe the ground;
The liquid streams forbear to flow,
In icy fetters bound.

When from the dreadful stores on high
He pours the rattling hail,
The wretch that dares this God defy
Shall find his courage fail.

He sends his word, and melts the snow,
The fields no longer mourn;
He calls the warmer gales to blow,
And bids the spring return.

The changing wind, the flying cloud,
Obey his mighty word:
With songs and honors sounding loud,
Praise ye the sovereign Lord.

poem by Isaac Watts
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The Columbiad: Book I

The Argument

Natives of America appear in vision. Their manners and characters. Columbus demands the cause of the dissimilarity of men in different countries, Hesper replies, That the human body is composed of a due proportion of the elements suited to the place of its first formation; that these elements, differently proportioned, produce all the changes of health, sickness, growth and decay; and may likewise produce any other changes which occasion the diversity of men; that these elemental proportions are varied, not more by climate than temperature and other local circumstances; that the mind is likewise in a state of change, and will take its physical character from the body and from external objects: examples. Inquiry concerning the first peopling of America. View of Mexico. Its destruction by Cortez. View of Cusco and Quito, cities of Peru. Tradition of Capac and Oella, founders of the Peruvian empire. Columbus inquires into their real history. Hesper gives an account of their origin, and relates the stratagems they used in establishing that empire.

I sing the Mariner who first unfurl'd
An eastern banner o'er the western world,
And taught mankind where future empires lay
In these fair confines of descending day;
Who sway'd a moment, with vicarious power,
Iberia's sceptre on the new found shore,
Then saw the paths his virtuous steps had trod
Pursued by avarice and defiled with blood,
The tribes he foster'd with paternal toil
Snatch'd from his hand, and slaughter'd for their spoil.

Slaves, kings, adventurers, envious of his name,
Enjoy'd his labours and purloin'd his fame,
And gave the Viceroy, from his high seat hurl'd.
Chains for a crown, a prison for a world
Long overwhelm'd in woes, and sickening there,
He met the slow still march of black despair,
Sought the last refuge from his hopeless doom,
And wish'd from thankless men a peaceful tomb:
Till vision'd ages, opening on his eyes,
Cheer'd his sad soul, and bade new nations rise;
He saw the Atlantic heaven with light o'ercast,
And Freedom crown his glorious work at last.

Almighty Freedom! give my venturous song
The force, the charm that to thy voice belong;
Tis thine to shape my course, to light my way,
To nerve my country with the patriot lay,
To teach all men where all their interest lies,
How rulers may be just and nations wise:
Strong in thy strength I bend no suppliant knee,
Invoke no miracle, no Muse but thee.

Night held on old Castile her silent reign,
Her half orb'd moon declining to the main;
O'er Valladolid's regal turrets hazed
The drizzly fogs from dull Pisuerga raised;
Whose hovering sheets, along the welkin driven,
Thinn'd the pale stars, and shut the eye from heaven.
Cold-hearted Ferdinand his pillow prest,
Nor dream'd of those his mandates robb'd of rest,
Of him who gemm'd his crown, who stretch'd his reign
To realms that weigh'd the tenfold poise of Spain;
Who now beneath his tower indungeon'd lies,
Sweats the chill sod and breathes inclement skies.

[...] Read more

poem by Joel Barlow
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Night the First

'If you account it Wisdom when you are angry to be silent and
Not shew it: I do not account that Wisdom but folly.
Every Man's Wisdom is peculiar ro his own Individuality.
Lo Satan, my youngest born, art thou not Prince of the Starry Hosts
And of the Wheels of Heaven, to turn the Mills day & night?
Art thou not Newton's Pantocrator weaving the the woof of Locke?
To Mortals the Mills seem every thing & the Harrow of Shaddai
A scheme of Human conduct invisible & incomprehensible.
Get to thy Labours at the Mills & leave me to my wrath.'

. . .

Ah weak & wide astray: Ah shut in narrow doleful form
Creeping in reptile flesh upon the bosom of the ground:
The Eye of Man a little narrow orb closd up & dark
Scarcely beholding the great light, conversing with the Void:
The Ear a little shell in small volutions shutting out
All melodies & comprehending only Discord & Harmony;
The Tongue a little moisture Fills, a little food it cloys,
A little sound it utters & its cries are fa;sely heard,
Then brings forth Moral Virtue the cruel Virgin Babylon.

'Can such an Eye judge of the stars? & looking thro its tubes
Measure the sunny rays that point their spears in Udanadan?
Can such an Ear filld with the vapours of the yawning pit
Judge of the pure melodious harp struck by a hand divine:
Can such closed Nostrils feel a joy? or tell of autumn fruits
When grapes & figs burst their covering to the joyful air?
Can such a Tongue boast of the living waters? or take in
Ought but the Vegetable Ratio & loathe the faint delight?
Can such gross Lips percieve? alas, folded within themselves
They touch not ought but pallid turn & tremble at every wind.'

For Satan flaming with Rintrah's fury hidden beneath his own mildness
Accus'd Palamabron before the Assembly of ingratitude: of malice:
He created Seven deadly Sins drawing out his infernal scroll
Of Moral laws and cruel punishments upon the clouds of Jehovah
To pervert the Divine voice in its entrance to the earth
With thunder of war & trumpets' sound, with armies of disease,
Punishments & deaths musterd & number'd; 'Saying I am God alone;
There is no other: let all obey my principles of moral individuality.
I have brough them from the uppermost innermost recesses
Of my Eternal Mind, transgressors I will rend off for ever,
As now I rend this accursed Family from my covering.'

Thus Satan rag'd amidst the Assembly: and his bosom grew
Opake against the Divine Vision, the paved terraces of
His bosom inwards shone with fires, but the stones becoming opake
Hid him from sight, in an extreme blackness and darkness,
And there a World of deeper Ulrio was opend, in the midst

[...] Read more

poem by William Blake from Vala or The Four Zoas‎: Night the First
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Finder's Fees

They don't want to be real.
And yet the reality of their existence,
Has manifested them in constant complaint.
Their eyes have been shielded from a truth,
Distanced from their remote touches.
Their anger suppressed,
Has them locked within traps...
Of Sunday confessions.
Torned with guilt that slaps,
If those visits have lapses.
Dictated to keep their tithes high
To ensure,
An answer to their prayers will come.

And All that God 'Is' is free for the asking.
Punishments are of our own choosing.
God has watched us abuse one another.
Do you think He gets paid a percentage,
Of those 'finder's' fees?
His only pleasure,
Is to have us come to HIM.
Alone.
And not understanding this...
Has a temendous price at a cost,
We suffer to deliver.
Just to keep a nightmare of sin away!
But we keep our wishes for things.
And these things wished...
Eventually are asked to have the pressure
Of keeping them,
Blessedly kept and protected.

And All that God 'Is' is free for the asking.
Punishments are of our own choosing.
God has watched us abuse one another.
Do you think He gets paid a percentage,
Of those 'finder's' fees?
His only pleasure,
Is to have us come to HIM.
Alone.

They don't want to be real.
And yet the reality of their existence,
Has manifested them in constant complaint.
Their eyes have been shielded from a truth,
Distanced from their remote touches.
Their anger suppressed,
Has them locked within traps...
Of Sunday confessions.
Torned with guilt that slaps,

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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To Allow Me

To allow me the rests complains to my spirit,
This spirit that rests inside my heart shall never cease,
This spirit is a ghost of the sums of gold and silver,
Forming me aright, from the icons that are displayed.
A real reason rests with the righteousness of relics,
My angers are asked by the rest of the angry crowd,
Turbulent times call for the truer punishments
In the heart of mine that bleeds.

Do not be mean to my spirit that sentences a man
To deathly encounters, fixed in their realms
As the eyes have calling of tears, rests are afoot,
And about them the wrestling is about.

To allow me a solution to these problems
Causes me to found a society where I
Judge the right punishments and sports
For the hearty men and women who live.
Those who love and inhabit their daily habits
Shall mime with the heavenly maidens
As their eyes fetch a golden coin.

poem by Naveed Akram
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M'Fingal - Canto III

Now warm with ministerial ire,
Fierce sallied forth our loyal 'Squire,
And on his striding steps attends
His desperate clan of Tory friends.
When sudden met his wrathful eye
A pole ascending through the sky,
Which numerous throngs of whiggish race
Were raising in the market-place.
Not higher school-boy's kites aspire,
Or royal mast, or country spire;
Like spears at Brobdignagian tilting,
Or Satan's walking-staff in Milton.
And on its top, the flag unfurl'd
Waved triumph o'er the gazing world,
Inscribed with inconsistent types
Of Liberty and thirteen stripes.
Beneath, the crowd without delay
The dedication-rites essay,
And gladly pay, in antient fashion,
The ceremonies of libation;
While briskly to each patriot lip
Walks eager round the inspiring flip:
Delicious draught! whose powers inherit
The quintessence of public spirit;
Which whoso tastes, perceives his mind
To nobler politics refined;
Or roused to martial controversy,
As from transforming cups of Circe;
Or warm'd with Homer's nectar'd liquor,
That fill'd the veins of gods with ichor.
At hand for new supplies in store,
The tavern opes its friendly door,
Whence to and fro the waiters run,
Like bucket-men at fires in town.
Then with three shouts that tore the sky,
'Tis consecrate to Liberty.
To guard it from th' attacks of Tories,
A grand Committee cull'd of four is;
Who foremost on the patriot spot,
Had brought the flip, and paid the shot.

By this, M'Fingal with his train
Advanced upon th' adjacent plain,
And full with loyalty possest,
Pour'd forth the zeal, that fired his breast.

"What mad-brain'd rebel gave commission,
To raise this May-pole of sedition?

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poem by John Trumbull
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We find greatest joy, not in getting, but expressing what we are. Men do not really live for honors or for pay; their gladness is not in the taking and holding, but in the doing, the striving, the building, the living. It is a higher joy to teach than to be taught. It is good to get justice, but better to do it; fun to have things, but more to make them. The happy man is he who lives the life of love, not for the honors it may bring, but for the life itself.

quote by R.J. Baughan
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We find greatest joy, not in getting, but in expressing what we are...Men do not really live for honors or for pay their gladness is not the taking and holding, but in doing, the striving, the building, the living. It is a higher joy to teach than to be taught. It is good to get justice, but better to do it fun to have things but more to make them. The happy man is he who lives the life of love, not for the honors it may bring, but for the life itself.

quote by R.J. Baughan
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The place honors not the man; it is the man who honors the place.

Hebrew proverbs
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The Nobel Prize is given as a personal award but it also honors the field of research in which I have worked and it also honors my students and colleagues.

quote by Robert Hofstadter
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Psalm 98 part 1

Praise for the gospel.

To our Almighty Maker, God,
New honors be addressed;
His great salvation shines abroad,
And makes the nations blest.

He spake the word to Abraham first;
His truth fulfils the grace;
The Gentiles make his name their trust,
And learn his righteousness.

Let the whole earth his love proclaim
With all her diff'rent tongues,
And spread the honors of his name
In melody and songs.

poem by Isaac Watts
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Get Ready

You think you know but you have no clue
No idea
You dont know g
I mean you really really dont know g
N****s get ready its time to explore
The world of the real one
N****s get ready
N****s get ready its time to explore
The world of the real one
N****s get ready
Hell yeah ya better get ready
Whats cracka lackin
Its the big dog
Im in the hizzle with my nizzle gin u izzle
And I mean from playa to playa
Its only right if I gots to pass the throne
I gots to pass the throne
I gots to pass it to my nephew g
Hes bonafide, qualified, and the ladies would definitely testify
Matter fact g
Holla at them nephew
Fa sho
Pass the hennessey
Im about to get bent
Toss the box of blunts
Let me roll the upper lip
Dont make me pop thangs
Cause I gets off the chain
You dont know me
But youre bout to
Its the real me
And I thought you knew
N****s get ready its time to explore
The world of the real one
N****s get ready (he coming at you full speed baby, but with a slow motion twist)
N****s get ready its time to explore
The world of the real one
N****s get ready
N****s get ready
I mean I mean ginuwine is so official
Like a referee with a whistle
Better yet like a gangsta with a pistol
So you n****s bettter get ready
Yeah I know
Matter fact g
Give it em doggy style
I know they aint ready but they got to get ready
You do you I do me
And we keep it like a g
Pass me that hennessey

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song performed by Ginuwine
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Get Ready (feat. Snoop Dogg & The Rock)

Album: Senior
(feat. Snoop Dogg & The Rook)
You think you know but you have no clue
No idea
You don't know G
I mean you really really don't Know G
N****s get ready it's time to explore
The world of the real one
N****s get ready
N****s get ready it's time to explore
The world of the real one
N****s get ready
Hell Yeah ya better get ready
What's cracka lackin
It's the big dog
I'm in the hizzle with my nizzle Gin U izzle
And I mean from playa to playa
It's only right if I gots to pass the throne
I gots to pass the throne
I gots to pass it to my nephew G
He's bonafide, Qualified, and the ladies would definitely testify
Matter fact G
Holla at them Nephew
Fa Sho
Pass the Hennessey
I'm about to get bent
Toss the box of blunts
Let me roll the upper lip
Don't make me pop thangs
Cause I gets off the chain
You don't know me
But you're bout to
It's the real me
And I thought you knew
N****s get ready it's time to explore
The world of the real one
N****s get ready (he coming at you full speed baby, but with a slow motion twist)
N****s get ready it's time to explore
The world of the real one
N****s get ready
N****s get ready
I mean I mean Ginuwine is so official
Like a referee with a whistle
Better yet like a gangsta with a pistol
So you n****s bettter get ready
Yeah I know
Matter fact G
Give it 'em doggy style
I know they ain't ready but they got to get ready
You do you I do me

[...] Read more

song performed by Ginuwine
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Cristina

I

She should never have looked at me
If she meant I should not love her!
There are plenty...men, you call such,
I suppose...she may discover
All her soul to, if she pleases,
And yet leave much as she found them:
But I'm not so, and she knew it
When she fixed me, glancing round them.

II

What? To fix me thus meant nothing?
But I can't tell (there's my weakness)
What her look said!—no vile cant, sure,
About "need to strew the bleakness
Of some lone shore with its pearl-seed
That the sea feels"—no "strange yearning
That such souls have, most to lavish
When there's chance of least returning."

III

Oh, we're sunk enough here, God knows!
But not quite so sunk that moments,
Sure tho' seldom, are denied us,
When the spirit's true endowments
Stand out plainly from its false ones,
And apprise it if pursuing
Or the right way or the wrong way,
To its triumph or undoing.

IV

There are flashes struck from midnights,
There are fire-flames noondays kindle,
Whereby piled-up honors perish,
Whereby swollen ambitions dwindle,
While just this or that poor impulse,
Which for once had played unstifled,
Seems the sole work of a life-time
That away the rest have trifled.

V

Doubt you if, in some such moment,
As she fixed me, she felt clearly,
Ages past the soul existed,
Here an age 'tis resting merely,

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from Cavalier Tunes (1842)
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Admetus: To my friend, Ralph Waldo Emerson

He who could beard the lion in his lair,
To bind him for a girl, and tame the boar,
And drive these beasts before his chariot,
Might wed Alcestis. For her low brows' sake,
Her hairs' soft undulations of warm gold,
Her eyes' clear color and pure virgin mouth,
Though many would draw bow or shiver spear,
Yet none dared meet the intolerable eye,
Or lipless tusk, of lion or of boar.
This heard Admetus, King of Thessaly,
Whose broad, fat pastures spread their ample fields
Down to the sheer edge of Amphrysus' stream,
Who laughed, disdainful, at the father's pride,
That set such value on one milk-faced child.

One morning, as he rode alone and passed
Through the green twilight of Thessalian woods,
Between two pendulous branches interlocked,
As through an open casement, he descried
A goddess, as he deemed, — in truth a maid.
On a low bank she fondled tenderly
A favorite hound, her floral face inclined
Above the glossy, graceful animal,
That pressed his snout against her cheek and gazed
Wistfully, with his keen, sagacious eyes.

One arm with lax embrace the neck enwreathed,
With polished roundness near the sleek, gray skin.
Admetus, fixed with wonder, dared not pass,
Intrusive on her holy innocence
And sacred girlhood, but his fretful steed
Snuffed the large air, and champed and pawed the ground;
And hearing this, the maiden raised her head.
No let or hindrance then might stop the king,
Once having looked upon those supreme eyes.
The drooping boughs disparting, forth he sped,
And then drew in his steed, to ask the path,
Like a lost traveller in an alien land.
Although each river-cloven vale, with streams
Arrowy glancing to the blue Ægean,
Each hallowed mountain, the abode of gods,
Pelion and Ossa fringed with haunted groves,
The height, spring-crowned, of dedicate Olympus,
And pleasant sun-fed vineyards, were to him
Familiar as his own face in the stream,
Nathless he paused and asked the maid what path
Might lead him from the forest. She replied,
But still he tarried, and with sportsman's praise

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poem by Emma Lazarus
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Psalm 148

Proper Metre.
Praise to God from all creatures.

Ye tribes of Adam, join
With heav'n, and earth, and seas,
And offer notes divine
To your Creator's praise:
Ye holy throng
Of angels bright,
In worlds of light,
Begin the song.

Thou sun with dazzling rays,
And moon that rules the night,
Shine to your Maker's praise,
With stars of twinkling light:
His power declare,
Ye floods on high,
And clouds that fly
In empty air.

The shining worlds above
In glorious order stand,
Or in swift courses move,
By his supreme command:
He spake the word,
And all their frame
From nothing came,
To praise the Lord.

He moved their mighty wheels
In unknown ages past,
And each his word fulfils
While time and nature last:
In diff'rent ways
His works proclaim
His wondrous name,
And speak his praise.

PAUSE.

Let all the earth-born race,
And monsters of the deep
The fish that cleave the seas,
Or in their bosom sleep;
From sea and shore
Their tribute pay,
And still display
Their Maker's power.

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poem by Isaac Watts
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