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The Demon-spectres of Domingo rise, And all her triumphs vanish from her eyes.
God is a spirit, veil'd from human sight, In secret darkness of eternal light ; Through all ihe glory of his works we trace The hidings of his counsel and his face ; Nature, and time, and change, and fate fulfil, Unknown, unknowing, his mysterious will ; Mercies and judgments mark him, every hour. Supreme in grace, and infinite in power : — Oft o'er the Eden-islands of the West, In floral pomp, and verdant beauty drest. Roll the dark clouds of his awaken'd ire ; — Thunder and earthquake, whirlwind, flood, and fire, Midst reeling mountains and disparting plains, Tell the pale world, — ' The God of vengeance reigns."
Nor in the majesty of storms alone,^ The eternal makes his fierce displeasure known ;
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