1 To celebrate thy praise, O Lord,
I will my heart prepare;
To all the list'ning world, thy works,
thy wond'rous works declare.
2 The thought of them shall to my soul
exalted pleasures bring;
Whilst to thy name, O thou Most High,
triumphant praise I sing.
2 Thou mad'st my aoughty foes to turn
their backs in shameful flight:
Struck with thy presence, down they fell,
they perish'd at thy sight.
4 Against insulting foes adavnc'd,
thou didst my cause maintain;
My right asserting from thy throne,
where truth and justice reign.
5 The insolence o heathen pride
thou hast reduc'd to shame;
Their wicked offspring quite destroy'd,
and blotted out their name.
6 Mistaken foes, your houghty threats
are to a period come;
Our city stands, which you design'd
to make our common tomb.
7, 8 The Lord forever lives, who has
his righteous throne prepar;d,
Impartial justice to dispense,
to punish or reward.
9 God is a constant sure defence
against oppressing rage:
As troubles rise, his needful aids
in our behalf engage.
10 All those who have his goodness prov'd
will in his truth confide;
Whose mercy ne'er forsook the man
that on his help rely'd.
11 Sing praises therefor to the Lord,
from Sion, his abode;
Proclaim his deeds, till all the world
confess no other God.
Part II
12 When he enquiry makes for blood,
he'll call the poor to mind:
The injur'd humble man's complaint
relief from him shall find.
13 Take pity on my througles, Lord,
which spiteful foes create,
Thou that hast rescu'd me so oft
from death's devouring gate.
14 In Sion then I'll sing thy praise,
to all that love thy name;
And, with loud shouts of grateful joy,
thy saving pow'r proclaim.
15 Deep in the pit they digg'd for me,
the heathen pride is laid;
Their guilty feet to their own snare
are headlessly betray'd.
16 Thus, by the just returns he makes,
the mighty Lord is known;
While wicked men by their own plots,
are shamefully o'erthrown.
17 No single sinner shall escape,
by privacy obscur'd;
Nor nation, from his just revege,
by numbers be secur'd.
18 His suff'ring saints, when most distress'd
he ne'er forgets to aid;
Their expectations shall be crown'd,
though for a time delay'd.
19 Arise, O Lord, assert thy pow'r,
and let not man o'ercome;
Descend to judgment, and pronounce
the guilty heathen's doom.
20 Strike terror through the nations round,
till, by consenting fear,
They to each other, and themselves,
but mortal men appear.
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