Taste

O guide my judgment and my taste,
Sweet SPIRIT, author of the book
Of wonders, told in language chaste,
And plainness not to be mistook.

O let me muse, and yet at sight
The page admire, the page believe;
"Let there be light, and there was light,
"Let there be Paradise and Eve!"

Who his soul's rapture can refrain?
At Joseph's ever-pleasing tale,
Of marvels, the prodigious train,
To Sinai's hill from Goshen's vale.

The Psalmist and proverbial Seer,
And all the prophets' sons of song,
Make all things precious, all things clear,
And bear the brilliant word along.

O take the book from off the shelf,
And con it meekly on thy knees;
Best panegyric on itself,
And self-avouch'd to teach and please.

Respect, adore it heart and mind,
How greatly sweet, how sweetly grand!
Who reads the most, is most refin'd,
And polish'd by the Master's hand.