Hark ! God’s horologe is striking—1
In yon vaulted dome above ;2
Myriad, myriad orbs triumphant3
March majestic to the chant,4
Hymning God’s exhaustless love.5
Hark ! God’s horologe is striking—6
Earth’s “orbed maiden? hears the call,7
Throws off. her dew-besprinkled hood,8
And steps in loving servitude,9
To scatter light and peace o’er all.10
Hark ! God’s horologe is striking—11
Wild ocean rolls in ceaseless sweep,12
By vaster higher influence bound,13
In ebb and flow still circling round,14
His waves the measured cadence keep.15
Hark ! God’s horologe is striking—16
From lowly nest the lark up-springing,17
Soars boldly to God’s throne on high,18
Pouring his lavish minstrelsy19
To shame our feeble earthly singing.20
Hark ! God’s horologe is striking—21
Each tiny form of loveliness,22
Each insect frail, each perfumed flower,23
Starts into life to bless the Power24
That willed its being for an hour,25
And dies in quiet thankfulness.26
Hark ! God’s horologe is striking,27
Shall man alone refuse to hear ?28
Still grovel in life’s miry ways,29
Forget his little share of praise,30
Nor track a Father’s footsteps near ?31
God’s horologe will strike once more ;32
It may be in the dead of night,33
When conscience has put out her light,34
And loving beacon-fires are o’er.35
God’s horologe will strike for thee !36
Canst thou look up in His pure eyes ?37
Hop’st thou to hear his cry, “ Well done ? ”38
Is thy bright crown of victory won,39
That waits thee now in Paradise ?40