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The Poems of Phillis Wheatley

True to her course th' impetuous storm derides,
Triumphant o'er the winds and surging tides.
Almighty, in these wond'rous works of thine,
What Pow'r, what Wisdom, and what Goodness 
shine?
And are thy wonders, Lord, by men explor'd,
And yet creating glory unador'd!
Creation smiles in various beauty gay,
While day to night, and night succeeds to day;
That Wisdom which attends Jehovah's ways,
Shines most conspicuous in the solar rays;
Without them, destitute of heat and light,
This world be the reign of endless night;
In their excess how would our race complain,
Abhoring life! how hate its length'ned chain!
From air adust what num'rous ills would rise?
What dire contagion taint the burning skies?
What pestilential vapours, fraught with death,
Would rise, and overspread the lands beneath?
Hail smiling morn, that from the Orient main
Ascending dost adorn the heav'nly plain!
So rich, so various are thy beauteous dies,
That spread through all the circuit of the skies,
That, full of thee, my soul in rapture soars,
And thy great God, the cause of all adores.

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The Poems of Phillis Wheatley

O'er beings infinite his love extends,
His Wisdom rules them, and his Pow'r defends.
When tasks diurnal tire the human frame,
The spirits faint, and dim the vital flame,
Then too that ever active bounty shines, 
Which not infinity of spaces confines.
The sable veil, that Night in silence draws, 
Conceals effects, but shows th' Almighty Cause;
Night seals in sleep the wide creation fair,
And all is peaceful but the brow of care.
Again, gay Phoebus, as the day before,
Wakes ev'ry eye, but what shall wake no more;
Again the face of nature is renew'd,
Which still appears harmonious, fair, and good.
May grateful strains salute the smiling morn,
Before its beams the eastern hill adorn!
Shall day to day, and night to night, conspire 
To show the goodness of the Almighty Sire?
This mental voice shall man regardless hear,
And never, never raise the filial pray'r?
To-day, O hearken, nor our folly mourn
For time misspent, that never will return.
But see the sons of vegetation rise,
And spread their leafy banners to the skies.
All-wise Almighty Providence do we trace
In trees, and plants, and all the flow'ry race;

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Transcription Notes:
---------- Reopened for Editing 2023-06-26 15:22:32 ---------- Reopened for Editing 2023-06-26 23:00:55