While I the King's loud praise rehearse

1 While I the King's loud Praise rehearse,
indited by my Heart,
My Tongue is like the Pen of him
that writes with ready Art.
2 How matchless is thy Form, O King!
thy Mouth with Grace o'erflows;
Because fresh Blessings God on Thee
eternally bestows.

3 Gird on thy Sword, most mighty Prince;
and, clad in rich Array,
With glorious Ornaments of Pow'r,
majestic Pomp display.
4 Ride on in State, and still protect
the Meek, the Just, and True;
Whilst thy Right-hand with swift Revenge
does all thy Foes pursue.

5 How sharp thy Weapons are to them
that dare thy Pow'r oppose!
Down, down they fall, while thro' their Heart
the feather'd Arrow goes.
6 But thy firm Throne, O God, is fix'd
for ever to endure;
Thy Sceptre's Sway shall always last,
by righteous Laws secure.

7 Because thy Heart, by Justice led,
did upright Ways approve,
And hated still the crooked Paths
where wand'ring Sinners rove;
Therefore did God, thy God, on thee
the Oil of Gladness shed;
And has, above thy Fellows round,
advanc'd thy lofty Head.

8 With Cassia, Aloes, and Myrrh,
thy Royal Robes abound;
Which, from the stately Wardrobe brought,
spread grateful Odours round.
9 Among the honourable Train
did princely Virgins wait;
The Queen was plac'd at thy Right-hand,
in golden Robes of State.

Part II

10 But thou, O Royal Bride, give Ear,
and to my Words attend:
Forget thy native Country now,
and ev'ry former Friend.

11 So shall thy Beauty charm the King,
nor shall his Love decay:
For He is now become thy Lord;
to Him due Rev'rence pay.
12 The Tyrian Matrons, rich and proud,
shall humble Presents make;
And all the wealthy Nations sue,
thy Favour to partake.

13 The King's fair Daughter's beauteous Soul
all inward Graces fill;
Her Raiment is of purest Gold,
adorn'd with costly Skill.
14 She in her nuptial Garments dress'd,
with Needles richly wrought,
Attended by her Virgin Train,
shall to the King be brought.

15 With all the State of solemn Joy
the Triumph moves along;
Till, with wide Gates, the royal Court
receives the pompous Throng.
16 Thou, in thy royal Father's room,
must princely Sons expect:
Whom thou to diff'rent Realms may'st send,
to govern and protect:

17 Whilst this my Song to future Times
transmits thy glorious Name;
And makes the world with one Consent
thy lasting Praise proclaim.

Source: A New Version of the Psalms of David: fitted to the Tunes used in Churches #XLV