PSALM CVIII.

Tate and Brady

2 Awake, my lute; nor thou, my harp,
Thy warbling notes delay;
Whilst I with early hymns of joy
Prevent the dawning day.

3 To all the list'ning tribes, O Lord,
Thy wonders I will tell;
And to those nations sing thy praise
That round about us dwell:

4 Because thy mercy's boundless height
The highest heav'n transcends,
And far beyond th' aspiring clouds
Thy faithful truth extends.

5 Be thou, O God, exalted high
Above the starry frame;
And let the world, with one consent,
Confess thy glorious Name.

6 That all thy chosen people thee
Their saviour may declare:
Let thy right hand protect me still,
And answer thou my pray'r.

7 Since God himself hath said the word,
Whose promise cannot fail,
With joy I Shechem shall divide,
And measure Succoth's vale.

8 Gilead is mine, Manasseh too,
And Ephraim owns my cause:
Their strength my regal pow'r supports,
And Judah gives my laws.

9 Moab I'll make my servile drudge,
On vanquish'd Edom tread;
And through the proud Philistine lands
My conqu'ring banners spread.

10 By whose support and aid shall I
Their well-fenc'd city gain?
Who will my troops securely lead
Through Edom's guarded plain?

11 Lord, wilt not thou assist our arms,
Which late thou didst forsake?
And wilt not thou of these our hosts
Once more the guidance take?

12 O, to thy servants in distress
Thy speedy succour send!
For vain it is on human aid
For safety to depend.

13 Then valiant acts shall we perform,
If thou thy pow'r disclose;
For God it is, and God alone,
That treads down all our foes.