Classic Poem

Part I.

O UR grateful songs, O Thou Eternal King,
Shall ever of Thy boundless mercies sing,
And Thy unalterable truth rehearse
To after ages in a living verse.
For what is by Thy clemency decreed
Shall orderly and faithfully succeed;
Ev'n like those never resting orbs above,
Which on firm hinges circularly move.
Thus God unto His servant David swore,
This cov'nant made: I will for evermore
Thy seed establish and thy throne sustain,
Whilst seas shall flow, or moons increase and wane.
The heav'nly hierarchy Thy truth shall praise,
The saints below Thy glorious wonders blaze;
For who is like our God above the clouds,
Or who so great whom human frailty shrouds?
He to His angels terrible appears,
And daunts the tyrants of the earth with fears.
Great God! How great when dreadful armies join!
What God so strong, what faith so firm as Thine?

Part II.

Thy bounds the billows of the sea restrain,
Thou calm'st the tumults of th' incensed main.
Proud Rahab, like a corse with blood imbru'd,
Hewn down, the strong with greater strength subdu'd.
Thine are the heav'ns, those lamps which gild the skies;
Round earth; broad seas, and all which they comprise.
Thou mad'st the southern and the northern pole
Whereon the orbs celestial swiftly roll.
Hermon invested with the morning rays,
And Tabor with the ev'ning's, sing Thy praise.
Thy Arm excells in strength, Thy Hands sustain
The world they made, and guide it with a rein.
Justice with judgment join'd Thy throne uphold,
Mercy and truth Thy sacred brows infold.
Thrice happy they who, when the trumpet calls,
Throng to Thy celebrated festivals!
They of Thy beauty shall enjoy the sight,
And guide their feet by that informing light.
Thy Name shall daily in their mouths be found,
And in Thy justice shall their joys abound.

Part III.

Our ornament in peace, our strength in wars,
Thy favour shall exalt us to the stars.
Thou Holy One of Israel, our King,
Thou our defence, secure beneath Thy wing!
Thus spake Jehovah by His prophet's voice:
Of strenuous David have I made My choice,
On that heroi pour'd My sacred oil,
To guide My people and preserve from spoil.
I will support him with My pow'rful arm,
No foe shall tribute force, nor treason harm.
His enemies before his face shall fly,
And those who hate his soul by slaughter die.
Our truth and clemency shall crown his days,
And to the firmament his glory raise.
He, from the billows of the Tyrian main,
To swift Euphrates shall extend his reign.
Who in his oft-renew'd devotions shall
Me Father, God, and Great Protector call.
My favorite he shall be, and My first birth,
Rais'd above all the princes of the earth.
My mercy him for ever shall preserve,
And from My promise I will never swerve.
His seed shall always reign; his throne shall last
While days have light, and nights their shadows cast.

Part IV.

If they My judgments slight, forsake My law,
My rites neglect, and from My rule withdraw,
Then I with whips will their offences scourge,
With labour, misery, and sorrows urge.
Yet will not utterly My king forsake,
My vow infringe, or alter what I spake.
I by My sanctity to David sware
That he and his should never want an heir,
To sway the Hebrew sceptre, while the sun
His usual race should through the zodiac run;
While men the moon and radiant stars should see,
The faithful witnesses of My decree.
But Thou art angry with Thy own elect,
And dost Thy late affected king reject;
Infringe the cov'nant to Thy servant sworn;
Thou from his brows his diadem hast torn,
Cast down the rampire which his strength renown'd,
And all his bulwarks levell'd with the ground;
Whom now his neighbours scorn, a common prey
And spoil to all that travel by the way.

Part V.

Thou addest strength and courage to his foes,
Who now rejoice and triumph in his woes;
Rebatest his sharp sword, unnerv'st his might,
And mak'st him shrink in fervour of the fight;
His splendour hast eclipsed, his renown
In ruins buried, and his throne cast down.
His youth-consumed with untimely age,
Mark'd out for shame, the object of Thy rage.
How long shall he in Thy displeasure mourn?
Still shall Thy anger like a furnace burn?
O call to mind the shortness of my days;
That dream of man, which like a flow'r decays.
Who lives that can the stroke of death defend,
Or shall not to the silent grave descend?
Where is Thy ancient love? Thy plighted troth,
Confirm'd to David by a solemn oath?
Remember the reproaches I have borne,
Those of the mighty, and their bitter scorn;
Traduced, by Thy enemies abhorr'd.
Yet, O my pensive soul, praise thou the Lord!