Great former of this various frame,
Our souls adore Thine awful name;
And bow and tremble while they praise
The Ancient of eter­nal days.

Thou, Lord, with unsurprised survey,
Sawest nature rising yesterday;
And, as tomorrow, shall Thine eye
See earth and stars in ruin lie.

Beyond an angel’s vision bright,
Thou dwell’st in self-existent light;
Which shines, with undiminished ray,
While suns and worlds in smoke decay.

Our days a transient pe­ri­od run,
And change with every circling sun;
And, in the firmest state we boast,
A moth can crush us into dust.

But let the creatures fall around;
Let death consign us to the ground;
Let the last general flame arise,
And melt the arches of the skies:

Calm as the summer’s ocean, we
Can all the wreck of nature see,
While grace secures us an abode,
Unshaken as the throne of God.