Invocation to the Deity

O Thou, from whom the rebel angels fled,
When thou didst rend thine everlasting veil,
And show thy countenance in wrath! O Thou,
Before whose brow, unclothed in light — put forth
In awful revelation — they that stood
Erect in heaven, they that walk'd sublime,
E'en in thy presence, Lord! and they that shone
Most glorious 'mid the host of glorious ones,
With Lucifer — the Morning Star, the Terrible,
The chief of old immortals — with the sight
Were suddenly consumed! Almighty! Thou,
Whose face but shone upon the rebel host
Of warring constellations, and their crowns
Were quench'd for ever! and the mightiest fell,
And lo! innumerable wings went up,
And gather'd round about the Eternal's throne,
And til the solitudes of air were fill'd
With thunders and with voices! and the war
Fled from thy presence! And thy wrath was o'er,
And heaven again in peace!
O Thou — our Inspiration — Thou, O God!
To whom the prophets and the crowned kings,
The bards of many years, who caught from Thee
Their blazing of the spirit! Thou, to whom
The Jewish monarchs, on their ivory thrones,
Flaming with jewelry, have fallen down
And rung their golden harps, age after age!
O Thou, to whom the gifted men of old,
Who stood among the mysteries of heaven,
Read the thick stars, and listened to the wind,
Interpreted the thunder, told the voice
Of Ocean tumbling in his caves, explained
The everlasting characters of flame
That burn upon the firmament, and saw
The face of him that sitteth in the sun,
And read the writing there, that comes and goes,
Revealing to the eyes the fate of men,
Of monarchs, and of empires! — men who stood
Amid the solitudes of heaven and earth, and heard
From the high mountain-top the silent Night
Give out her uninterpreted decrees! —
The venerable men! the old, and mighty,
Prophets and bards and kings, whose souls were fill'd
With immortality, and visions, till
Their hearts have ached with weary supplication;
Till all the Future, rushing o'er their strings,
In tempest and in light, hath drown'd their prayers,
And left their mighty harps all ringing loud
With prophecy and wo! O Thou, to whom
Innumerable suns, and moons, and worlds,
The glorious elevations of the sky,
The choirs of cherubim and seraphim —
Immortal multitudes, that worship round
Thine echoing throne — upon their golden harps
And silver trumps, and organs of the air,
Pour everlasting melody! O Thou, to whom
All this hath been familiar from the hour
When thou didst bow the heavens, and, at the sound
Of many thunders, pealing thy decree,
Creation sprang to light, when time began
And all the boundless sky was full of suns,
Rolling in symphony, and man was made
Sublime and confident, and woman, up
From the sunshine of the Eternal rose,
All intellect and love! and all the hills
And all the vales were green, and all the trees in flower.
— O, bless our trembling harp!