PSALM CXLVI.

Tate and Brady

3 On kings, the greatest sons of men,
Let none for aid rely;
They cannot save in dang'rous times,
Nor timely help apply.

4 Depriv'd of breath, to dust they turn,
And there neglected lie,
And all their thoughts and vain designs
Together with them die.

5 Then happy he, who Jacob's God
For his protector takes;
Who still with well-plac'd hope the Lord
His constant refuge makes.

6 The Lord, who made both heav'n and earth,
And all that they contain,
Will never quit his steadfast truth,
Nor make his promise vain.

7 The poor opprest from all their wrongs
Are eas'd by his decree;
He gives the hungry needful food,
And sets the pris'ners free.

8 By him the blind receive their sight,
The weak and fall'n he rears;
With kind regard and tender love
He for the righteous cares.

9 The strangers he preserves from harm,
The orphan kindly treats,
Defends the widow, and the wiles
Of wicked men defeats.

10 The God that does in Sion dwell
Is our eternal King:
From age to age his reign endures;
Let all his praises sing.