This is a poem by Isaac Watts, from Horae Lyricae, Book 1, 1706, entitled God's Dominion and Decrees.
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Keep silence, all created things,
And wait your Maker's nod;
The muse stands trembling while she sings
The honors of her God.
Life, death, and hell, and worlds unknown,
Hang on His firm decree,
He sits on no precarious throne,
Nor borrows leave to be.
The mighty voice bade ancient night
Her endless realms resign;
And, lo, ten thousand globes of light
In fields of azure shine.
Now wisdom, with superior sway,
Guides the vast moving frame;
While all the ranks of beings pay
Deep reverence to His name.
He spake: the sun obedient stood,
And held the falling day:
Old Jordan backward drives his flood,
And disappoints the sea.
Lord of the armies of the sky,
He marshals all the stars:
Red comets lift their banners high,
And wide proclaim His wars.
Chained to the throne, a volume lies
With all the fates of men;
With every angel's form and size,
Drawn by eternal pen.
His providence unfolds the book,
And makes His counsels shine;
Each opening leaf, and every stroke
Fulfills some deep design.
Here He exalts neglected worms
To scepters and a crown;
Anon the following page he turns,
And treads the monarch down.
Not Gabriel asks the reason why,
Nor God the reason gives;
Nor dares the favorite angel pry
Between the folded leaves.
My God, I never longed to see
My fate with curious eyes;
What gloomy lines are writ for me,
Or what bright scenes shall rise.
In thy fair book of life and grace,
May I but find my name
Recorded in some humble place,
Beneath my Lord, the Lamb!
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