1 My chearful Mind a good Design shall frame,
Whilst I the King's loud Praise proclaim;
My Tongue directed by my joyful Heart,
Is like the Pen that's us'd with ready Art.
How matchless is thy Form, O King renown'd!
With beaming Glories are thy Temples crown'd,
Thy Mouth with Grace continually o'erflows;
Because fresh Blessings GOD on thee bestows.

2 Gird on thy Sword, O Prince! in Might excel,
Gird on that Sword which doth thy Foes repel;
And clad in Ornaments and rich Array,
Majestic Pomp, resistless Pow'r display:
Ride on in State, and still the Meek protect,
Thy dreadful Wrath against thy Foes direct:
Let thy right Hand with swift Revenge pursue,
All those who strive against the Just and True.

3 The sharpen'd Weapons which thy Hands direct,
Thy humbled Foes shall to thy Will subject;
Down, down they fall, who dare thy Pow'r oppose,
Whilst thro' their Hearts the feather'd Arrow goes;
But thou, O God! shall firmly be enthron'd,
And thy just Rule by all Mankind be own'd;
Thy Sceptre's Sway for ever to endure,
Shall always make thy righteous Laws secure.

4 Because thy Heart hath upright Ways approv'd;
The purest Truth and strictest Justice lov'd;
And hated still in crooked Paths to move,
Where wand'ring Sinners ever thoughtless rove;
Therefore, thy GOD, did thee to reign appoint,
And with the Oil of Joy thy Head anoint:
With Cassia, Aloes and Myrrh abound,
Thy royal Robes, and spread their Odours round.

5 Amongst the honourable Women plac'd,
Do princely Virgins stand, with Beauty grac'd;
The glorious Queen herself in State did stand,
Array'd in golden Robes, at thy right Hand.
But to my Words, O Royal Bride, give Ear,
And my Instructions with Attention hear;
Forget thy Country, and each former Friend,
And on the King alone, with Hope depend.

6 So shall thy Beauty more inviting be;
So shall his constant Love encrease to thee;
Since he's thy LORD, to him thy Homage pay,
And his Affections ne'er shall know decay.
The Tyrian Matrons shall rich Presents make,
And daily strive thy Favours to partake:
The King's fair Daughter inward Graces fill,
Her Raiment is of Gold, adorn'd with Skill.

7 She with her nuptial Garments, wide display'd,
In costly Robes of Needle Work array'd;
While Virgin Trains, attending, stand around,
Shall to the King be brought with Glory crown'd.
With all the State of solemn Pomp can show,
With all the Lustre Riches can bestow;
The grand Procession slowly moves along,
'Till the wide Gates receive the pompous Throng.

8 Then, in the Room thy royal Father grac'd,
Expect to see thy princely Offspring plac'd;
Whom thou in State to diff'rent Realms mayst send,
To govern there, and Justice to defend.
Whilst this my Song, to future Times preserv'd,
Shall tell the Praises, thy great Name deserv'd.
And make the World with one Consent proclaim,
Thy lasting Glory and perpetual Fame.