Songs 7

¹How should the sons of Adam’s race

be pure before their God?

If he contends in righteousness,

we sink beneath his rod.

²If he should mark my words and thoughts

with strict enquiring eyes,

Could I for one of thousand faults

the least excuse devise?

³Strong is his arm, his heart is wise;

who dares with him contend?

Or who, that tries th’ unequal strife,

shall prosper in the end?

⁴He makes the mountains feel his wrath,

and their old seats forsake;

The trembling earth deserts her place,

and all her pillars shake.

⁵He bids the sun forbear to rise;

th’ obedient sun forbears:

His hand with sackcloth spreads the skies,

and seals up all the stars.

⁶He walks upon the raging sea;

flies on the stormy wind:

None can explore his wondrous way,

or his dark footsteps find.