The Lord hath builded for Himself;
      He needs no earthly dome:

Acts xvii. 24.

The Lord hath builded for Himself;
      He needs no earthly dome:
The universe His dwelling is,
      Eternity His home.

Yon glorious sky His temple stands,
      So lofty, bright, and blue,
All lamped with stars, and curtained round
      With clouds of every hue.

Earth is His altar: nature there
      Her daily tribute pays:
THe elements upon Him wait,
      The seasons roll His praise.

Where shall I see Him?  How describe
      The Dread, Eternal One?
His foot-prints are in every place,
      Himself is found in none.

He called the world, and it arose;
      The heavens, and they appeared:
His hand poured forth the mighty deep;
      His arm the mountains reared.

He sets His foot upon the hills,
      And earth beneath Him quakes;
He walks upon the hurricane,
      And in the thunder speaks.

I search the rounds of space and time,
      Nor find his semblance there:
Grandeur has nothing so sublime.
      Nor beauty half so fair.

Yet all I am, or meet, proclaim
      His wisdom, love, and power:
They shine from all yon rolling worlds:
      They bloom in every flower.

He is; He was; He aye shall be.
      But how, my soul? and what?
Where is He, say, ye works of His?
      Vain thought!  where is He not?

Thou Omnipresent, dread Unknown,
      Engage me evermore:
Enlarge my views, exalt my soul,
      And help me to adore!

~ Henry Francis Lyte

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