PSALM LXXXI.

Tate and Brady

2 Compose a hymn of praise, and touch
Your instruments of joy,
Let psalteries and pleasant harps
Your grateful skill employ.

3 Let trumpets at the great new moon
Their joyful voices raise,
To celebrate th' appointed time,
The solemn day of praise.

4 For this a statute was of old,
Which Jacob's God decreed,
To be with pious care observ'd
By Israel's chosen seed.

5 This he for a memorial fix'd,
When, freed from Egypt's land,
Strange nations' barb'rous speech we heard,
But could not understand.

6 Your burden'd shoulders I reliev'd,
(Thus seems our God to say,)
Your servile hands by me were freed
From lab'ring in the clay.

7 Your ancestors, with wrongs oppress'd,
To me for aid did call;
With pity I their suff'rings saw,
And set them free from all.

They sought for me, and from the cloud
In thunder I replied;
At Meribah's contentious stream
Their faith and duty tried.

8 While I my solemn will declare,
My chosen people, hear:
If thou, O Israel, to my words
Wilt lend thy list'ning ear;

9 Then shall no god besides myself
Within thy coasts be found;
Nor shalt thou worship any god
Of all the nations round.

10 The Lord thy God am I, who thee
Brought forth from Egypt's land:
'Tis I that all thy just desires
Supply with lib'ral hand.

11 But they, my chosen race, refus'd
To hearken to my voice;
Nor would rebellious Israel's sons
Make me their happy choice.

12 So I, provok'd, resign'd them up
To ev'ry lust a prey,
And in their own perverse designs
Permitted them to stray.

13 O that my people wisely would
My just commandments heed,
And Israel in my righteous ways
With pious care proceed!

14 Then should my heavy judgments fall
On all that them oppose,
And my avenging hand be turn'd
Against their num'rous foes.

15 Their enemies and mine should all
Before my footstool bend;
But as for them, their happy state
Should never know an end.

16 All parts with plenty should abound;
With finest wheat their field:
The barren rocks, to please their taste,
Should richest honey yield.