Written After A Very Severe Tempest, Which Cleared Up Extremely Pleasant

WHEN rolling thunders shake the skies,
And lightnings fly from pole to pole;
When threat'ning whirlwinds rend the air,
What terrors seize th' affrighted soul! —

Aghast and pale with thrilling fear,
He trembling stands in wild amaze;
Nor knows for shelter where to hide,
To screen him from the livid blaze.

Happy the calm and tranquil breast,
That with a steady equal mind,
Can view those flying shafts of death,
With heart and will at once resign'd! —

Oh! thou Supreme Eternal King,
At whose command the tempests rage,
With equal ease can worlds destroy,
Or with a word, the storm assuage.

And though impetuous tempests roar,
And penetrating flames surround,
Thou bid'st them cease — the thunder's hush'd,
And rest and silence reign profound.

Thus have we seen thy power and might,
Adoring, we thy works survey;
'Tis thou direct'st the pointed flame,
And thus thy goodness dost display.

Thou hast compos'd the rapid winds,
And lull'd to rest the foaming wave;
The clouds dispers'd, each twinkling star
Proclaims aloud thy power to save.

The silver moon, the glorious orbs,
That swim aloft in boundless space,
Their rays resplendent all unite,
To celebrate at once thy praise.