University of Virginia Library

PSALM CXXXVIII.

Thee, Lord, my harp's awaken'd strings
Shall praise, and to the ear of Kings,
Whose pow'rs thy sacred impress bear,
The ardor of my zeal declare.
In low prostration, tow'rd thy shrine,
His knees thy Servant shall incline,
And thankful teach the rapt'rous lay
Thy Faith and Mercy to display,
Whose Sanctity all height transcends;
Whose word eternal Truth attends;
Whose Pow'r, while Thee my pray'r address'd,
Has fill'd with Heav'n-born strength my breast.
Earth's Lords, by thy instructions led,
With Israel's sons thy path shall tread,
And, joyous, as they march along,
Thy Glory chaunt in grateful song,
Thee Nature's only Lord attest,
Of boundless excellence possess'd,
Inthron'd above the loftiest sky,
Yet wont the Humble to descry,
And, from thy distant seat, deride
The frantic boasts of human pride.
When hostile troops excite my fear,
Thy quick'ning Grace my heart shall chear,
Thy hand compose their furious strife,
And rescue from the sword my life.
What bliss thy promise bids me share,
Haste, Lord, to yield; nor from thy care
(O ever faithful, wise and good,)
The creature of thy hands exclude.