Poems, on sacred and other subjects and songs, humorous and sentimental: By the late William Watt. Third edition of the songs only--with additional songs |
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| 1. | MELODY FIRST. Nahum, Chap. I.
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 | Poems, on sacred and other subjects |  |
MELODY FIRST. Nahum, Chap. I.
The Elkoshite—by heaven inspired,
When night to western realms retired,
And Sol Philistia's mountains fired—
His face directed easterly.
With thrilling heart and rolling eyes
He feels prophetic transport rise:—
“Thy awful doom await,” he cries,
“From Justice, bloody Nineveh!
When night to western realms retired,
And Sol Philistia's mountains fired—
His face directed easterly.
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He feels prophetic transport rise:—
“Thy awful doom await,” he cries,
“From Justice, bloody Nineveh!
“Jehovah, though to anger slow,
With indignation red doth glow
To wreak His wrath on thee, his foe,
Thou daughter of iniquity!
The whirlwind, rapid, rolling far,
And clouds, He makes his flying car;
Seas, rivers, by Him dried up are,
Such is His matchless majesty!
With indignation red doth glow
To wreak His wrath on thee, his foe,
Thou daughter of iniquity!
The whirlwind, rapid, rolling far,
And clouds, He makes his flying car;
Seas, rivers, by Him dried up are,
Such is His matchless majesty!
“The verdant mountains languish, sere;
The stable hills all quake for fear;
Burn'd up is earth's wide rolling sphere,
Before His dread immensity.
Who can endure His kindled ire?
High swells His wrath, like seas of fire;
Yet proves a Saviour and a Sire
To sons of pure fidelity.
The stable hills all quake for fear;
Burn'd up is earth's wide rolling sphere,
Before His dread immensity.
Who can endure His kindled ire?
High swells His wrath, like seas of fire;
Yet proves a Saviour and a Sire
To sons of pure fidelity.
“But grim Destruction's swelling wave,
And dark Oblivion's lightless cave,
Will prove the wicked's sullen grave,
Where reigns eternal misery.
What do ye plot against the Lord,
In impious league, with one accord?
No second stroke his furbish'd sword
Shall seek of you, O enemy!
And dark Oblivion's lightless cave,
Will prove the wicked's sullen grave,
Where reigns eternal misery.
What do ye plot against the Lord,
In impious league, with one accord?
No second stroke his furbish'd sword
Shall seek of you, O enemy!
“For while in union close you lie,
And think no foeman's hand is nigh,
You'll be burnt up, like stubble dry,
Amidst your drunken revelry.
Thy sons of Belial high may swell
Gainst Him who rules in Israel,
Yet, though His millions all rebel,
God rides the car of victory.
And think no foeman's hand is nigh,
You'll be burnt up, like stubble dry,
Amidst your drunken revelry.
Thy sons of Belial high may swell
Gainst Him who rules in Israel,
Yet, though His millions all rebel,
God rides the car of victory.
“His dread decree is 'gainst thee gone,
Thy power on earth no more is known,
Thy idols vile he will dethrone,
Thee doom to death eternally.
O Judah, lift thy woe-worn eyes,
Behold thy Saviour to thee hies;
No more shall Belial 'gainst thee rise,
For now he 's vanquish'd utterly.”
Thy power on earth no more is known,
Thy idols vile he will dethrone,
Thee doom to death eternally.
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Behold thy Saviour to thee hies;
No more shall Belial 'gainst thee rise,
For now he 's vanquish'd utterly.”
| Poems, on sacred and other subjects | |