 | The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley |  |
93
HYMN I.
[Britons, rejoice, the Lord is King!]
Britons, rejoice, the Lord is King!
The Lord of Hosts and nations sing,
Whose arm hath now your foes o'erthrown;
Ascribe the praise to God alone,
The Giver of success proclaim,
And shout your thanks in Jesus' name!
The Lord of Hosts and nations sing,
Whose arm hath now your foes o'erthrown;
Ascribe the praise to God alone,
The Giver of success proclaim,
And shout your thanks in Jesus' name!
'Twas not a feeble arm of ours
Which chased the fierce contending powers,
Jehovah turn'd the scale of fight,
Jehovah quell'd their boasted might,
And knapp'd their spears, and broke their swords,
And show'd—the battle is the Lora's.
Which chased the fierce contending powers,
Jehovah turn'd the scale of fight,
Jehovah quell'd their boasted might,
And knapp'd their spears, and broke their swords,
And show'd—the battle is the Lora's.
He beckon'd to the savage band,
And bade them sweep through half the land:
The savage band their terror spread,
With Rome and Satan at their head,
But, stopp'd by His almighty breath,
Rush'd back—into the arms of death.
And bade them sweep through half the land:
The savage band their terror spread,
With Rome and Satan at their head,
But, stopp'd by His almighty breath,
Rush'd back—into the arms of death.
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Thou Lord, alone, hast laid them low,
In pieces dash'd the' invading foe,
Thy breath which did their fury raise
Hath quench'd, at once, the sudden blaze,
Destroy'd the weapons of Thine ire,
And cast the rods into the fire.
In pieces dash'd the' invading foe,
Thy breath which did their fury raise
Hath quench'd, at once, the sudden blaze,
Destroy'd the weapons of Thine ire,
And cast the rods into the fire.
O that we all might see the Hand
Which still protects a guilty land;
Glory and strength ascribe to Thee
Who giv'st to kings the victory;
And yield, while yet Thy Spirit strives,
And thank Thee with our hearts and lives!
Which still protects a guilty land;
Glory and strength ascribe to Thee
Who giv'st to kings the victory;
And yield, while yet Thy Spirit strives,
And thank Thee with our hearts and lives!
O that we might to God rejoice,
And tremble at Thy mercy's voice:
Nor fondly dream the danger past,
While yet our own rebellions last!
O that our wars with heaven might cease,
And all receive the Prince of Peace!
And tremble at Thy mercy's voice:
Nor fondly dream the danger past,
While yet our own rebellions last!
O that our wars with heaven might cease,
And all receive the Prince of Peace!
Or if, before the scourge return,
The thankless crowd disdains to mourn,
Yet, Lord, with reverential joy,
We vow for Thee our all to' employ,
And bless Thee for the kind reprieve,
And to our Saviour's glory live.
The thankless crowd disdains to mourn,
Yet, Lord, with reverential joy,
We vow for Thee our all to' employ,
And bless Thee for the kind reprieve,
And to our Saviour's glory live.
Long as Thou lengthen'st out our days,
We live to testify Thy grace;
Secure beneath Thy mercy's wings,
We triumph in the King of kings,
The Giver of success proclaim,
And shout our thanks in Jesus' name.
We live to testify Thy grace;
Secure beneath Thy mercy's wings,
We triumph in the King of kings,
The Giver of success proclaim,
And shout our thanks in Jesus' name.
| The poetical works of John and Charles Wesley | |