Classic Poem

PSALM CVIII.

A WAKE , my soul, to sound his praise,
Awake my harp to sing;
Join all my powers the song to raise,
And morning incense bring.

Among the people of his care,
And thro' the nations round;
Glad songs of praise will I prepare,
And there his name resound.

Be thou exalted, O my God ,
Above the starry train;
Diffuse thy heavenly grace abroad,
And teach the world thy reign.

So shall thy chosen sons rejoice,
And throng thy coures above;
While sinners hear thy pardoning voice,
And taste redeeming love.