My evening drive home was illumined by long, low sunbeams under low, grey clouds, making the rust and green and gold of our Mississippi November glow like a scene from a Hudson River painter.
Have you not known, have you not heard
That firm remains on high
The everlasting throne of Him
Who made the earth and sky?
Are you afraid His pow’r shall fail
When comes your evil day?
And can an all-creating arm
Grow weary or decay?
Supreme in wisdom as in pow’r
The Rock of ages stands,
Though Him you cannot see, nor trace
The working of His hands.
Mere human pow’r shall fast decay,
And youthful vigor cease;
But they who wait upon the Lord
In strength shall still increase.
–Isaac Watts, 1707