O ruler of the universe, whose stars
in mighty paens sing the threefold God,
thou architect of mortal time, whose mind
the flaming worlds imagined, as a rhyme,
thou art enthroned above the cherubim.
The oceans rage and spend their vitals here
spurred by iniquity and ancient powers,
compelled to prove the patience of the Lord.
As when, before the world from chaos born
the star named Beautiful, prince of the dawn
and robed in high esteem, had led the choir
of heaven's sons to spurn their great abode,
their blest of God, the summit of all joy,
to drink of sin as water, free from law,
yet not contented with rebellion there
had lain with Adam's daughters, and the well
was poisoned of the human race entire;
e'en so the tyrants rage, their fate is sealed,
and they shall murmur 'gainst the face of God
but fruitful not, save in their wayward thought,
shall arm the nations up against their king,
e'en as a son who overthrows the sire
who once begat him, and with many a tear.
O ye who dwell within the seven hills
yet nurse from heaven's breast, there citizen,
O cast thine eyes where God his fury vents;
his train is filled with smoke, his arrows glint,
and filled with indignation is his eye
because of thine oppression. Still thine heart,
gird up thy loins, salvation is at hand.
For he hath bound himself - and twice - with oath:
his name is Yahweh Sabaoth.