« ПредыдущаяПродолжить »
The wretch-that dares this God defy
The fields no longer mourn:
And bids the spriog return.
Obey his mighty word:
Praise ye the fov'rcigo Lord.
PSALM CXLVIII. Proper Metre.
Praise to God from all creatures.
Ye with heaven and Carth and seas,
And offer potes divine
Ye holy throng
Begin the song.
And moon that rules the night,
His pow'r declare,
In empty air.
In glorious order stand,
He fpake the word,
To praise the Lord. 4 He mov'd their mighty wheels
In unknown ages past,
In diff'rent ways
PAUSE. 5 Let all the earth born race,
And monsters of the deep,
From sea and shore
Their Maker's pow'r.
Praise ye th’ almighty Lord,
When lightnings shine,
His hand divine. 7 Ye mountains near the skies,
With lofty cedars there,
Beasts wild and tame,
Exalt his name.
The Lord, the fov'reign king;
Nor let the dream
His pow'r supreme.
To found his praise divine,
Wide as he reigos
In endless strains.
The God that rules above;.
While earth and sky
PSALM CXLVIII. Paraphrased in Long Metre.
Universal praise to God.
Let heav'n begin the folemn word,
Note, This Psalm may be sung to the tune of the old 1 12th, or 127th Psalm, if these two lines be added to every stanza, viz.
Each of his works his oame displays,
But they can ne'er fulfil the praise. Otherwise it must be fung to the usual tunes of the
Let ev'ry angel bend the knee;
And speak how fierce his terrors be. 3 High on a throne his glories dwell,
An awful throne of thining bliss:
How dark thy beams compar'd to his. 4 Awake, ye tempests, and his fame
In sounds of dreadful praise declare;
Fill ev'ry gentler breeze of air.
To join their praise with blazing fire;
In this eterpal fong conspire.
Rife tuneful to the neighb'ring fky. 7 Ye Stubborn oaks, and stately pines
Bend your high branches and adore :
.8 Birds, ye must make his praise your theme,
Nature demands a song from you:
Leap up and mean his praises too,
When nature all around you sings ?
From humble swains and lofty kings!
Make the Creator's name be known;
And found it lofty as his throne.
it dwell on ev'ry tongue !
Are bound to raise the noblelt fong.
Which Gabriel plays on ev'ry chord;
To praise th' eternal God;
And found his name abroad.
And moon with paler rays,
Shine to your Maker's praise.
And fix'd their wond'rous frame;