To thee, PROTECTIVE God, I owe,
All that I have, or hope, or know,
Each ray of mind that seems to shine
Is but a clouded gleam from thine.
The lust'red heavens present thy zone,
The peopled earth thy living throne,
The globe, which nature holds of thee,
Is bound by thy infinity.
Poor, and unbless'd, not mine the power
To shield from want one frugal hour,
Yet from thy rich regard I drew,
The bread of peace, and promise too.
How vain the pride of man appears,
How weak the vigour of his years;
But thou one _vital spark_ has given
To light, and lead _his hope_ to Heaven.