Four Score

I count the mercifullest part of all God's mercies, in this coil of eighty years, Is that no sense of being disappears Or fails; I see the signal, hear the call, Can calmly estimate the rise and fall Of moth-like mortals in this "vale of tears"; And all His glorious works--the heavenly spheres, The ocean, and the earth's unending wall-- Remain, for thought and wonder! Marvellous Is God's creation, with its endless space And those inhabited bright worlds by law Divinely governed, as they shine on us, Still keeping through all time their ordered place; I bow my head in rapture and in awe.