1. With all my Heart, eternal God,
I'll celebrate thy Praise;
I'll shew forth all thy wondrous Works,
Of Judgment, and of Grace.
2. With Gladness I will tune my Song;
In Thee I will rejoice'
O thou Most-high! Praise to thy Name,
I'll sing with chearful Voice.
3. When thou shalt rout my haughty Foes,
And put their Troops to flight;
With Terror, at thy Presence struck
They fall, and perish quite.
4. For thou my Right had still maintain'd,
And made my Cause thine own;
In Righteousness thou judged hast,
From thine imperial Throne.
5. The Heathen thou hast sure rebuk'd,
And laid the Wicked waste;
Thou hast cast out their Name as vile.
Them evermore disgrac'd.
6. O thou proud Foe, thy wasting Pow'r
To utter End is brought!
Their Cities thou hast overthrown,
Their Name is quite forgot.
7. But God, the Lord, for evermore,
Remains the living One;
Who, from of Old, for Judgment hath
Prepar'd his royal Throne.
8. And he, the Nations of the Earth,
Shall judge in Righteousness;
Unbias'd Judgment he shall give
To greater, and the less,
9. The Lord will prove a sure Defence
To them that are opprest;
And when distressing Times prevail.
His Refuge yields them Rest.
10. Therefore, all they that know thy Name,
Their Trust in Thee will place:
For thou, Lord, ne'er forsakest those.
Who humbly seek thy Face.
Second PART.
11. Sing Praises to the Lord, who dwells
In Zion, his chief Care;
The many Wonders he hath done.
To all the World declare.
12. When he, for Blood, Enquiry makes,
His Vengeance speedy flys;
The Meek oppress'd he'll not forget,
But hear their humble Cryes,
13. Have Mercy on me, Lord, and weigh
The Troubles which I bear,
From envious Foes; O thou who do'st
From Gates of Death me rear.
14. That I, amidst assembled Crowds,
May shew forth all thy Praise,
In Zion's Gates; and Shouts of Joy,
In thy Salvation raise.
15. Down in the Pit the Heathen sink.
Which they themselves have made;
Their own Foot's taken in the Net,
Which guilefully they laid.
16. Thus, by the Judgments he deals forth,
Jehovah is made known!
While impious Men are justly snar'd.
In Works that, are their own.
17. The Wicked shall, at length, be turn'd
Down to a painful Hell;
There all the Nations of the Earth,
That God forget, shall dwell.
18. The humble shall not be forgot.
And fruitlessly complain;
Nor shall the poor oppress'd Man's Hope
Forever be in vain.
10. Rise, Lord, and let not wicked Men
Prevail against my Right;
O, let the Heathen World be judg'd.
In thine all-piercing Sight.
20. O Lord, with Terrors strike their Minds,
Fill them with Dread of Thee;
That they're but feeble, mortal, Men,
The Nations all may see.
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