| In Him the far-flung ages dawned, aglow With all the splendor of God's purpose deep, In Him the orbs of space their stations keep, And all creation, longing, waits to show The beauty of His perfect reign. And lo! Earth's weary toilers o'er life's mountains steep, Unite with nature's myriad hosts to leap Their bars, His liberty and grace to know. In
hope, thus throbbing, ages pass along, |