Bless the Lord, O my soul. O Lord my God, thou art very great;
thou art clothed with honour and majesty.
Who coverest thyself with light as with a garment: who stretches
out the heavens like a curtain:
Who layeth the beams of his chambers in the waters: who maketh
the clouds his chariot: who walketh upon the wings of the wind:
Who maketh his angels spirits; his ministers a flaming fire:
Who laid the foundations of the earth, that it should not be
removed for ever.
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The faint old man shall lean his silver head
To feel thee; thou shalt kiss the child asleep,
read more
The faint old man shall lean his silver head
To feel thee; thou shalt kiss the child asleep,
And dry the moistened curls that overspread
His temples, while his breathing grows more deep.
Madame, bear in mind
That princes govern all things--save the wind.
Madame, bear in mind
That princes govern all things--save the wind.
An ill wind that bloweth no man good--
The blower of which blast is she.
An ill wind that bloweth no man good--
The blower of which blast is she.
Blow, Boreas, foe to human kind!
Blow, blustering, freezing, piercing wind!
Blow, that thy force I may read more
Blow, Boreas, foe to human kind!
Blow, blustering, freezing, piercing wind!
Blow, that thy force I may rehearse,
While all my thoughts congeal to verse!
The hushed winds wail with feeble moan
Like infant charity.
The hushed winds wail with feeble moan
Like infant charity.
I hear the wind among the trees
Playing the celestial symphonies;
I see the branches downward bent,
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I hear the wind among the trees
Playing the celestial symphonies;
I see the branches downward bent,
Like keys of some great instrument.
When the stormy winds do blow;
When the battle rages loud and long,
And the stormy winds read more
When the stormy winds do blow;
When the battle rages loud and long,
And the stormy winds do blow.
The wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou hearest the sound
thereof, but canst not tell whence it cometh, read more
The wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou hearest the sound
thereof, but canst not tell whence it cometh, and whither it
goeth: so is every one that is born of the Spirit.
The wind moans, like a long wail from some despairing soul shut
out in the awful storm!
The wind moans, like a long wail from some despairing soul shut
out in the awful storm!
