Hymnary Friends,

Please pardon this brief interruption, and please consider a gift today to support the work of Hymnary.org. Here's why.

Each month half a million people visit this website for free access to the most complete database of North American hymnody on the planet. But this project does not come without a cost, and we have limited sources of revenue. Twice a year we hold a fund drive, and these drives are critical to our future.

So if you benefit from Hymnary.org, would you consider a donation today? Even small amounts help, and they also let us know you're behind us and support what we do.

Click the Donate button below to be taken to a secure giving site. Or you can make your tax-deductible contribution by sending a check to Hymnary.org at 3201 Burton SE, Grand Rapids, MI 49546.

On behalf of the entire Hymnary.org team, our thanks.
Harry Plantinga

What desp'rate madness strikes the heathen? Say

What desp'rate madness strikes the heathen? Say

Author: Thomas Cradock
Published in 1 hymnal

Representative Text

1 What desp'rate madness strikes the heathen? Say,
What vain delusive hopes the nations sway?
2 Earth's haughty tyrants in their pride rebel;
With impious rage the mad'ning rulers swell;
Thro' all, thro' all, the fatal frenzy flies;
Against the Lord, against his Christ, they rise.
3 "Our fouls (they boast) we'll from this bondage free,
"And vindicate our native liberty."
4 But they in vain Omnipotence defy,
The great, the sov'reign Lord, that rules on high,
Laughs all their empty menaces to scorn;
5 See, see against them his dread fury burn!
Hear 'gainst his enemies his thunder break!
Hear him (O hear) the solemn mandate speak;
6 "Thou still, my son, on sacred Sion reign,
"And o'er the conquer'd globe my pow'r maintain."
7 For me, while breath inspires this vital frame,
The law my God hath giv'n me, I'll proclaim;
"This day, my son, have I begotten thee;
8 "Ask of thy sov'reign father--thine shall be
"Whate'er the regions of the world contain,
"Whatever aether bounds, whate'er the main;
9 "Thou with an iron rod the nations sway;
"Bruise them, like vessels form'd of potter's clay."
10 But hear, ye monarchs of the world, be wise;
Dispel this dark'ning mist before your Eyes;
11 Serve the great father, and his will revere;
Temper your joy with pure, with holy fear,
12 Embrace the Son, and due obedience shew;
If but awhile his dire resentment glow,
Eternal death's your doom--thrice happy all,
Who trust in him, on his dread name who call!

Source: New Version of the Psalms of David #II

Author: Thomas Cradock

Rector of St. Thomas's, Baltimore County, Maryland Go to person page >

Text Information

First Line: What desp'rate madness strikes the heathen? Say
Author: Thomas Cradock
Language: English
Publication Date: 1756
Copyright: This text in in the public domain in the United States because it was published before 1923.


Instances (1 - 1 of 1)
TextPage Scan

New Version of the Psalms of David #II

Suggestions or corrections? Contact us