Meter 4

O Thou Creator of bright constellations,
Of heaven and earth ; Thou on the high-seat
Eternal reignest and the round heaven
All swiftly movest, and through Thy holy might
The lights of heaven makest to hear Thee,
Hen as the sun scattereth darkness

Of the swart night time through Thy strong power,
And with her pale beams the bright stars
The moon doth humble, through Thy might’s moving ;
At whiles too she robbeth the radiant sun
Of his full light, when it befalleth
That they come together by close compulsion.
So too the glorious star of morning,
That we by its other name star of evening
Oft hear called, Thou constrainest
To follow the way where the sun wendeth ;
Every year he must ever travel,
Hare before him. O Father, Thou sendest
Long days in summer with heat sultry ;
To the winter also wondrous short days
Hast Thou granted. Too the trees Thou givest
South-west breezes, when the black tempest
Sprung from the north-east had utterly stript them
Of every leaf with its loathly wind.

Behold, all creatures in the earth’s compass
Obey Thy hests ; the same do they in heaven
With mind and main, save man only ;
He oftenest worketh in despite of Thy will.
Ah! Thou Eternal and Thou Almighty
Author and Ruler of all creation,
Pity the offspring of Thy poor world,
Even this race of men, through Thy mighty power.
Why, O God Eternal, grantest Thou ever
That Fate at the will of wicked mortals

Should turn herself on earth so swiftly ?
Oft to the guiltless great harm she worketh.
The wicked are seated in worldly kingdoms
Upon their high-seats, trampling the holy
Under their feet ; no man may find out
Why Fate falleth so foully awry.
So also are hidden here in this world
In many a borough brightest virtues,
Whereas the sinful in every season
Treat most evilly all those others
That are more righteous, to rule more worthy.
False-faced guile long hath gone
Wrapt up in wiles. Now here in the world

Oaths basely broken bring no scathe.
If Thou, O Chieftain, wilt not check Fate,
But sufferest her in self-will to remain,
Then this do I know, that nations will doubt
Far o’er earth’s fields, all but a few.
O my Sovereign, Thou that seest
All worldly creatures, with eyes of kindness
Look on mortals, for they are moiling,
Battling here in the world’s billows,
Poor folk of the earth ; pity them therefore.