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!