The HYMN. Anne Finch (née Kingsmill), countess of Winchilsea Alexander Huber Editor Bodleian Libraries, University of Oxford
Broad Street Oxford OX1 3BG UK
Eighteenth-Century Poetry Archive
Taylor Institution Library St Giles' Oxford OX1 3NA UK info@eighteenthcenturypoetry.org https://www.eighteenthcenturypoetry.org/
Oxford This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. T94539 pp. 274-5 K076314.000 Winchilsea, Anne Kingsmill Finch, Countess of, 1661-1720. Miscellany poems, on several occasions: Written by the Right Honble Anne, Countess of Winchilsea. London printed for J. B. and sold by Benj. Tooke, William Taylor, and James Round 1713 pp. 248-252. [8],390p. ; 8⁰.

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The HYMN . TO the Almighty on his radiant Throne , Let endless Hallelujas rise ! Praise Him , ye wondrous Heights to us unknown , Praise Him , ye Heavens unreach'd by mortal Eyes , Praise Him , in your degree , ye sublunary Skies ! Praise Him , you Angels that before him bow , You Creatures of Celestial frame , Our Guests of old , our wakeful Guardians now , Praise Him , and with like Zeal our Hearts enflame , Transporting then our Praise to Seats from whence you came ! Praise Him , thou Sun in thy Meridian Force ; Exalt Him , all ye Stars and Light ! Praise Him , thou Moon in thy revolving Course , Praise Him , thou gentler Guide of silent Night , Which do's to solemn Praise , and serious Thoughts invite . Praise Him , ye humid Vapours , which remain Unfrozen by the sharper Air ; Praise Him , as you return in Show'rs again , To bless the Earth and make her Pastures fair : Praise Him , ye climbing Fires , the Emblems of our Pray'r . Praise Him , ye Waters petrify'd above , Ye shredded Clouds that fall in Snow , Praise Him , for that you so divided move ; Ye Hailstones , that you do no larger grow , Nor , in one solid Mass , oppress the World below . Praise Him , ye soaring Fowls , still as you fly , And on gay Plumes your Bodies raise ; You Insects , which in dark Recesses lie , Altho' th' extremest Distances you try , Be reconcil'd in This , to offer mutual Praise . Praise Him , thou Earth , with thy unbounded Store ; Ye Depths which to the Center tend : Praise Him ye Beasts which in the Forests roar ; Praise Him ye Serpents , tho' you downwards bend , Who made your bruised Head our Ladder to ascend . Praise Him , ye Men whom youthful Vigour warms ; Ye Children , hast'ning to your Prime ; Praise Him , ye Virgins of unfullied Charms , With beauteous Lips becoming sacred Rhime : You Aged , give Him Praise for your encrease of Time . Praise Him , ye Monarchs in supreme Command , By Anthems , like the Hebrew Kings ; Then with enlarged Zeal throughout the Land Reform the Numbers , and reclaim the Strings , Converting to His Praise , the most Harmonious Things . Ye Senators presiding by our Choice , And You Hereditary Peers ! Praise Him by Union , both in Heart and Voice ; Praise Him , who your agreeing Council steers , Producing sweeter Sounds than the according Spheres . Praise Him , ye native Altars of the Earth ! Ye Mountains of stupendious size ! Praise Him , ye Trees and Fruits which there have birth , Praise Him , ye Flames that from their Bowels rise , All fitted for the use of grateful Sacrifice . He spake the Word ; and from the Chaos rose The Forms and Species of each Kind : He spake the Word , which did their Law compose , And all , with never ceasing Order join'd , Till ruffl'd for our Sins by his chastising Wind . But now , you Storms , that have your Fury spent , As you his Dictates did obey , Let now your loud and threatning Notes relent . Tune all your Murmurs to a softer Key , And bless that Gracious Hand , that did your Progress stay . From my contemn'd Retreat , obscure and low , As Grots from whence the Winds disperse , May this His Praise as far extended flow ; And if that future Times shall read my Verse . Tho' worthless in it self , let them his Praise rehearse .