Читать книгу English Poets of the Eighteenth Century - Various - Страница 57

O God, our help in ages past,

Our hope for years for to come,

Our shelter from the stormy blast,

And our eternal home:

Under the shadow of Thy throne,

Thy saints have dwelt secure;

Sufficient is Thine arm alone,

And our defense is sure.

Before the hills in order stood,

Or earth received her frame,

From everlasting Thou art God,

To endless years the same.

A thousand ages in Thy sight

Are like an evening gone;

Short as the watch that ends the night

Before the rising sun.

Time, like an ever-rolling stream,

Bears all its sons away;

They fly forgotten, as a dream

Dies at the opening day.

O God, our help in ages past;

Our hope for years to come;

Be thou our guard while troubles last,

And our eternal home!