1 Blest is the nation, where the Lord
Hath fix'd his gracious throne;
Where he reveals his heav'nly word,
And calls their tribes his own.
2 His eye with infinite survey
Does the whole world behold;
He form'd us all of equal clay,
And knows our feeble mould.
3 Kings are not rescu'd by the force
Of armies from the grave;
Nor speed nor courage of a horse
Can the bold rider save.
4 Vain is the strength of beasts or men,
To hope for safety thence;
But holy souls from God obtain
A strong and sure defence.
5 God is their fear, and God their trust;
When plagues or famine spread;
His watchful eye secures the just
Amongst ten thousand dead.
6 Lord, let our hearts in thee rejoice,
And bless us from thy throne;
For we have made thy word our choice,
And trust thy grace alone.
Text Information | |
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First Line: | Blest is the nation, where the Lord |
Meter: | C. M. |
Language: | English |
Publication Date: | 1790 |
Scripture: | |
Notes: | Now Public Domain. Part 2 |