ByMrs.EMILY J. BUGBEE.
Oh! depths unknown,Oh! wide unfathomed seas,That circle round His throne,Who dwellest high and lone,Where noise and tumult cease,In the eternal peace.Insatiate, unrepressed,Our longings still arise,Our weariness confessed,Far reaching after rest,Where the full ocean liesBeyond the veiling skies.How scant the storeOf knowledge gathered here;Small pebbles on the shore,The soul cries out for more.Doth God bend down his ear,Our longing cry to hear?Nearer to thee,Great source of life and light,The child upon our knee,From pride and doubting free,Than man, from boasted heightOf intellectual might.
Oh! depths unknown,Oh! wide unfathomed seas,That circle round His throne,Who dwellest high and lone,Where noise and tumult cease,In the eternal peace.Insatiate, unrepressed,Our longings still arise,Our weariness confessed,Far reaching after rest,Where the full ocean liesBeyond the veiling skies.How scant the storeOf knowledge gathered here;Small pebbles on the shore,The soul cries out for more.Doth God bend down his ear,Our longing cry to hear?Nearer to thee,Great source of life and light,The child upon our knee,From pride and doubting free,Than man, from boasted heightOf intellectual might.
Oh! depths unknown,Oh! wide unfathomed seas,That circle round His throne,Who dwellest high and lone,Where noise and tumult cease,In the eternal peace.
Oh! depths unknown,
Oh! wide unfathomed seas,
That circle round His throne,
Who dwellest high and lone,
Where noise and tumult cease,
In the eternal peace.
Insatiate, unrepressed,Our longings still arise,Our weariness confessed,Far reaching after rest,Where the full ocean liesBeyond the veiling skies.
Insatiate, unrepressed,
Our longings still arise,
Our weariness confessed,
Far reaching after rest,
Where the full ocean lies
Beyond the veiling skies.
How scant the storeOf knowledge gathered here;Small pebbles on the shore,The soul cries out for more.Doth God bend down his ear,Our longing cry to hear?
How scant the store
Of knowledge gathered here;
Small pebbles on the shore,
The soul cries out for more.
Doth God bend down his ear,
Our longing cry to hear?
Nearer to thee,Great source of life and light,The child upon our knee,From pride and doubting free,Than man, from boasted heightOf intellectual might.
Nearer to thee,
Great source of life and light,
The child upon our knee,
From pride and doubting free,
Than man, from boasted height
Of intellectual might.