1 To Thee, O God, we render Praise,
to Thee with Thanks repair;
For, that thy Name to us is nigh,
thy wond'rous Works declare.
2 In Israel when my Throne is fix'd,
with me shall Justice reign.
3 The Land with Discord shakes; but I
the sinking Frame sustain.
4 Deluded Wretches I advis'd
their Errors to redress;
And warn'd bold Sinners, that they should
their swelling Pride suppress.
5 Bear not our selves so high, as if
no Pow'r could yours restrain:
Submit your stubborn Necks, and learn
to speak with less Disdain.
6 For that Promotion, which to gain
your vain Ambition strives,
From neither East, nor West, nor yet
from Southern Climes arrives.
7 For God the great Disposer is,
and Sov'reign Judge alone,
Who casts the Proud to Earth, and lifts
the Humble to a Throne.
8 His Hand holds forth a dreadful Cup;
with purple Wine 'tis crown'd;
The deadly Mixture, which his Wrath
deals out to Nations round.
Of this his Saints sometimes may taste;
but wicked Men shall squeeze
The bitter Dregs, and be condemn'd
to drink the very Lees.
9 His Prophet, I, to all the World
this Message will relate:
The Justice then of Jacob's God
my Song shall celebrate.
10 The Wicked's Pride I will reduce,
their Cruelty disarm;
Exalt the Just, and seat him high,
above the Reach of Harm.