1830

HYMN OF THE CITY

by William Cullen Bryant

HYMN OF THE CITY -

Not in the solitude

Alone may man commune with Heaven, or see,

Only in savage wood

And sunny vale, the present Deity;

Or only hear his voice

Where the winds whisper and the waves rejoice. -

Even here do I behold

Thy steps, Almighty!- here, amidst the crowd

Through the great city rolled,

With everlasting murmur deep and loud-

Choking the ways that wind

'Mongst the proud piles, the work of human kind. -

Thy golden sunshine comes

From the round heaven, and on their dwellings lies

And lights their inner homes;

For them thou fill'st with air the unbounded skies,

And givest them the stores

Of ocean, and the harvests of its shores. -

Thy Spirit is around,

Quickening the restless mass that sweeps along;

And this eternal sound-

Voices and footfalls of the numberless throng-

Like the resounding sea,

Or like the rainy tempest, speaks of Thee. -

And when the hour of rest

Comes, like a calm upon the mid-sea brine,

Hushing its billowy breast-

The quiet of that moment too is thine;

It breathes of Him who keeps

The vast and helpless city while it sleeps. - -