The Book Of Creation

The book of nature open lies,
With much instruction stored;
But till the Lord anoints our eyes
We cannot read a word.

Philosophers have pored in vain,
And guessed, from age to age;
For reason's eye could ne'er attain
To understand a page.

Though to each star they give a name,
Its size and motions teach;
The truths which all the stars proclaim,
Their wisdom cannot reach.

With skill to measure earth and sea;
And weigh the subtle air;
They cannot, Lord, discover thee
Though present everywhere.

The knowledge of the saints excels
The wisdom of the schools;
To them his secrets God reveals,
Though men account them fools.

To them the sun and stars on high,
The flow'rs that paint the field,
And all the artless birds that fly,
Divine instruction yield.

The creatures on their senses press,
As witnesses to prove
Their Saviour's pow'r, and faithfulness,
His providence and love.

Thus may we study nature's book
To make us wise indeed!
And pity those who only look
At what they cannot read.

Poem topics: , , , , ,

Rate this poem:

Add The Book Of Creation poem to your favorites

Add Poet John Newton to your favorites

Popular Poets

Norman Rowland Gale (2 poems)
Ambrose Bierce (0 poems)
Louis V. Ledoux (4 poems)
George Gascoigne (3 poems)
Richard Brautigan (0 poems)
James D. Gay (1 poems)
Augusta Davies Webster (1 poems)
Lascelles Abercrombie (3 poems)
Robert Henryson (2 poems)
James Weldon Johnson (60 poems)

Popular Poems

To A Youthful Friend, by George Gordon Byron
On The World, by Jonathan Swift
The Worldâ??s Doing, by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Deer, by Ellis Parker Butler
Facing West From California's Shores, by Walt Whitman
A Statesman's Holiday, by William Butler Yeats
Apology, by C. S. Lewis
On The High Price Of Fish, by William Cowper
Dungeon Grates, by C. S. Lewis
Idealism, by Arthur Symons