PSALM CXV.

George Burgess

Why should the impious heathen cry,
\"Where hides their God and Lord?\"
Our God is in the heav'ns on high,
And all that live in earth and sky
Fulfil his will and word.

Their idol gods are gods of gold;
Or silver, fashion'd fair:
From human hands they took their mould;
Man gave them silent lips and cold,
That mock their vot'ry's pray'r;

Man gave them eyes that naught can view,
And ears, that naught can hear;
And hands that no kind deed can do,
And feet that ne'er a foe pursue,
Or flee a danger near;

Man gave a nose that naught can smell,
A mouth that naught can say:
And those who loud their praises tell,
And trust the gods they fram'd so well,
Are senseless, e'en as they.

O Israel, trust the Lord your Shield,
O house of Aaron just;
Still trust the strength his arm shall yield,
And trust the buckler he shall wield;
O all that fear him, trust!

The Lord our path shall onward trace,
And give our hands success;
Shall bless the men of Israel's race,
Shall bless the heirs of Aaron's grace,
Shall all that fear him bless.

Yea, he shall bless, and shall not cease,
The high and humble all:
On you and yours, with large increase,
Shall blessings, giv'n in love and peace,
From heav'n's high Monarch fall.

He made the heav'n's resplendent height;
He gave the earth its span:
In heav'n he fix'd his dwelling bright,
Beyond yon arch of golden light,
And earth he gave to man.

Not from the graves' descending gate
Shall songs thy praise record:
But still on thee our hymns shall wait,
While thou shalt stretch our being's date:
Oh, praise the sov'reign Lord!