University of Virginia Library

PSALM XLVIII.

[Great is our redeeming Lord]

Great is our redeeming Lord
In power, and truth, and grace;
Him, by highest heaven adored,
His church on earth should praise:

112

In the city of our God,
In His holy mount below,
Publish, spread His praise abroad,
And all His greatness show.
Built by His almighty hands,
The towers of Salem rise;
Fair and firm the city stands,
Contiguous to the skies;
Joy to all the earth she brings,
Stored with blessings from above;
Kept by the great King of kings,
Her guardian God of love!
Monarchs with their armies met,
Jerusalem to' assail;
Sworn to' o'erthrow the sacred seat
Where God vouchsafes to dwell:
Lo! their boast is turn'd to shame!
Struck with sore amaze and dread,
Marching towards her walls they came,
They came,—they saw,—they fled!
Horror seized Thy Sion's foes,
And pain'd their guilty heart;
As a travailing woman's throes
They felt the killing smart:
Scatter'd by Thy stormy ire,
Dash'd as ships against the shore,
Tyrants with their hopes expire,
And sink to rise no more.
We the works of ancient days
Have seen repeated now:
God doth still His Sion raise,
And force her foes to bow:

113

Still she in her Saviour trusts,
Glories in His constant care;
There He dwells, the Lord of Hosts,
He reigns for ever there.
For Thy lovingkindness, Lord,
We in Thy temple stay;
Here Thy faithful love record,
Thy saving power display:
With Thy name Thy praise is known;
Glorious Thy perfections shine;
Earth's remotest bounds shall own
Thy works are all Divine.
All Thy mighty works are wrought
In perfect equity;
Sion, by Thy judgments taught,
Shall give the praise to Thee:
Thee let all Thy saints adore,
Ransom'd by Thy timely aid;
Every tongue confess Thy power,
And every heart be glad.
Sons of God, triumphant rise,
The city walls surround!
Lo! her bulwarks touch the skies,
How high, yet how profound!
Tell the number of her towers,
All her palaces declare,
Guarded by angelic powers,
And God in person there!
See the gospel-church secure,
And founded on a Rock!
All her promises are sure;
Her bulwarks who can shock?

114

Count her every precious shrine;
Tell, to after ages tell,
Fortified by power Divine,
The church can never fail.
Sion's God is all our own,
Who on His love rely:
We His pardoning love have known,
And live to Christ, and die:
To the New Jerusalem
He our faithful Guide shall be,
Him we claim, and rest in Him,
Through all eternity.