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.