Hymn LXXIV. A thanksgiving for Peace.
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Peace is the nurse of Plentie, and the means of so
many other blessings that God cannot be sufficiently
praised for it. This therefore is composed, that
we who have enjoyed this blessing more then most
other Nations might be more thankfull for it here after.
Sing this as the 4. Psalme.
[1]
So cause us, Lord! to think upon
The Blessing we possesse,
That we may praise what thou hast done,
And thy great love confesse.
For, we whose Fields in Ages past,
With bloodshed were distain'd,
Whilst Fire and Sword layd others waste,
In safetie, have remain'd.
2
No armed Bands, the Plough-man fears,
No Towr's are overturn'd;
No Temple shakes about our ears;
No Townships now are burn'd.
No Father hears his little Childe,
In vain, for succour cry:
No Husband sees his Wife defilde,
Whilst he doth wounded lye.
3
Dear God! vouchsafe to pittie those
Who thus distressed be:
That, to defend them from their Foes
They may have help from thee.
For, by thy Mercy we obtain'd
These calme and peacefull Dayes;
And for this Peace, with hearts unfain'd
We, now, do Sing thy Praise.
4
Aswell for our internall Peace,
As for that outward Rest,
Which by thy Favour we possesse
Thy goodnesse, is confest,
Oh take not, Lord! this grace away,
But, let it still endure
And, grant thy mercies make us may,
More thankfull, not secure.
