For (if a mortal tongue may speak of him And his dread ways) even as his boundless eye, 200 Connecting every form and every change, Beholds the perfect Beauty; so his will, Through every hour producing good to all The family of creatures, is itself The perfect Virtue. Let the grateful swain Remember this, as oft with joy and praise He looks upon the falling dews which clothe His lawns with verdure, and the tender seed Nourish within his furrows; when between Dead seas and burning skies, where long unmoved 210 The bark had languish'd, now a rustling gale Lifts o'er the fickle waves her dancing prow, Let the glad pilot, bursting out in thanks, Remember this; lest blind o'erweening pride Pollute their offerings; lest their selfish heart Say to the heavenly ruler, 'At our call Relents thy power; by us thy arm is moved.' Fools! who of God as of each other deem; Who his invariable acts deduce From sudden counsels transient as their own; 220 Nor further of his bounty, than the event Which haply meets their loud and eager prayer, Acknowledge; nor, beyond the drop minute Which haply they have tasted, heed the source That flows for all; the fountain of his love Which, from the summit where he sits enthroned, Pours health and joy, unfailing streams, throughout The spacious region flourishing in view, The goodly work of his eternal day, His own fair universe; on which alone 230 His counsels fix, and whence alone his will Assumes her strong direction. Such is now His sovereign purpose; such it was before All multitude of years. For his right arm Was never idle; his bestowing love Knew no beginning; was not as a change Of mood that woke at last and started up After a deep and solitary sloth Of boundless ages. No; he now is good, He ever was. The feet of hoary Time 240 Through their eternal course have travell'd o'er No speechless, lifeless desert; but through scenes Cheerful with bounty still; among a pomp Of worlds, for gladness round the Maker's throne Loud-shouting, or, in many dialects Of hope and filial trust, imploring thence The fortunes of their people: where so fix'd Were all the dates of being, so disposed To every living soul of every kind The field of motion and the hour of rest, 250 That each the general happiness might serve; And, by the discipline of laws divine Convinced of folly or chastised from guilt, Each might at length be happy. What remains Shall be like what is past; but fairer still, And still increasing in the godlike gifts Of Life and Truth. The same paternal hand, From the mute shell-fish gasping on the shore, To men, to angels, to celestial minds, Will ever lead the generations on 260 Through higher scenes of being; while, supplied