Their countless number. 

 Hast thou taken a pledge 

 From thy poor brother's hand? or reft away 

 The garment from the shivering? or withheld 

 Bread from the hungry? or the widow sent 

 Empty away? not given the weary soul 

 What it implored? nor bound the broken arm 

 Of the forsaken fatherless? 

 For this 

 Have snares beset thee? and a secret fear 

 Dismay'd thy spirit? and a rayless night 

 Shut over thee? 

 Look to the height of heaven, 

 Above the utmost star. Is not God there? 

 Think'st thou that aught can intercept His sight 

 Or bar His righteous judgment? He who makes 

 The thickest clouds His footstool, when He walks 

 Upon the circuit of the highest heavens? 

 Acquaint thyself with Him and be at peace, 

 Return to Him, and He shall build thee up. 

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