LXXII. Let me, good God, my righteous suit obtain

1 Let me, good God, my righteous suit obtain;
Impartial o'er my people let me reign;
And for my son (O hear a father's pray'r)
Some portion of thy justice let him share;
2 By equal laws thy favour'd nations sway,
Nor turn from pleading poverty away.
3 Then shall the hills exalt their heads in peace;
The woods and plains shall heav'n-born justice bless.
4 With equity the injur'd let him hear,
While hard oppressors his resentment fear.
Safe let the poor to his protection fly,
Assur'd, that he'll immediate aid supply:
5 That, while the beamy sun shall gild the day,
And the pale moon mines forth with borrow'd ray,
The ages yet to come may dread thy pow'r,
Thy will revere, thy glorious name adore.
6 Down from above return the heav'n-born maid,
And o'er the nations all her influence shed;
As from thy goodness falls the fleecy rain,
And spreads a glorious plenty o'er the plain.
7 His sceptre let the virtues all attend;
Prove to the virtuous he a steady friend;
Long let them flourish, while celestial peace
Their souls with all her balmy sweets shall bless.
8 Extend his wide domains from sea to sea,
While only earth's own bounds confine his sway.
9 Be his vast AEthiopias desart land;
Own all his foes submissive his command;
Bow at his awful feet, and grace implore,
Their heads with humbling ashes cover'd o'er.
10 To him their gifts the world's high masters bring,
Tarsus' proud prince, Arabia's haughty king;
And all the monarchs of the isles, whose bounds
Old ocean with his stormy floods surrounds.
11 'Fore him fall all that have imperial sway;
Him all the nations of the globe obey.
12 May he the wretched in their mis'ries aid,
13 And free the poor, when cruel foes invade;
14 From fraud, from violence, their souls protect,
And to their urgent plea have due respect.
15 Crown'd with bright glory, long may he survive,
And Sheba's yellow tribute long receive;
For him his people long put up their pray'rs,
And bless the influence of his royal cares.
16 May e'en the desart hills their harvests yield,
(Their sterile tops with golden plenty fill'd)
The tow'ring corn it's waving ears shall shew,
As high on Lebanon the cedars bow
While o'er the city spreads a numerous race,
As o'er the verdant plains the spiry grass.
17 Long may the glories of his name endure;
His mem'ry last, till time itseif's no more;
His people, blest in him, as he in them,
Him equally their prince and father deem.
18 Praise, might and majesty, to Israel's God,
Who sheds his gracious bounties, all abroad;
19 Eternal honours wait upon his name;
Praise him, ye sons of men, with loud acclaim;
O'er the wide world his glorious name be shewn,
And fall the nations prostrate 'fore his throne.

Text Information
First Line: Let me, good God, my righteous suit obtain
Language: English
Publication Date: 1756
Scripture:
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