SECTION I.

God's Merciful Judgments

1 Thou, O Jehovah, art my God,
Thee as mine own I claim;
I'll therefore celebrate abroad
And praise thy glorious name:

For thou hast wonders manifold
Perform'd in recent dress;
Shap'd to thy counsels, which of old
Are truth and faithfulness.

2 In heaps and rubbish laid thou hast
Strong cities fenc'd afore;
And strangers' palaces laid waste,
To be rebuilt no more.

3 Thy stoutest foes shall therefore yield
The glory thine to be;
And nations fierce resign the field,
And fear to cope with thee.

4 For thou in straits a strength to poor
And needy ones hast been;
From blowing storm a refuge sure,
From scorching heat a screen.

And that in times of greatest dread,
When furious tempests fall,
And blasts of tyrants fierce exceed
The storm that beats the wall.

5 The ruffling noise of strangers rude,
Thou shalt abate with ease,
As in dry plots a shady cloud
Does scorching heat surcease:

On tyrants proud thoul't be aveng'd,
That are so dreadful now;
Their jovial trebles shall be chang'd
And doleful basses low.

SECTION II.

His saving Benefits.

6 Lo! in this mount the Lord of hosts
A banquet shall prepare,
For all that tread on Zion's coasts,
And people ev'ry-where.

He'll with fat things and wines suffice,
Fat things of marrow full,
Wines well refin'd, from off the lees,
To glad and cheer the dull.

7 And in this mount he'll raze the vail,
The face o'er-cov'ring shade,
Of darkness cast o'er people all,
And o'er all nations spread.

8 He'll swallow up in victory,
Grim death, the king of fears
From faces all the Lord most high
Will wipe away the tears;

What base contempt, and vile reproach,
Were on his people laid,
From off the earth he'll quite dispatch
For so the Lord hath said.

SECTION III.

His victorious Salvation.

9 That day shall songs be utter'd thus,
"Behold this is our God;
We stay'd for him, and now he'll us,
With his salvation load:

This is the Lord Redeemer kind,
For whom we, long did wait;
We will be glad, with joyful mind,
In his salvation great."

10 For here shall rest our conqu'ring God,
And Moab be o'erthrown;
11 The gates of hell shall down be trod,
12 The trump of triumph blown.