IX. To celebrate thy Praise, O Lord

1 To celebrate thy Praise, O Lord,
I will my Heart prepare;
To all the list'ning World thy Works,
thy wond'rous Works declare.
2 The Thought of them shall to my Soul
exalted Pleasure bring;
Whilst to thy Name, O thou most High,
triumphant Praise I sing.

3 Thou mad'st my haughty Foes to turn
their Backs in shameful Flight:
Struck with thy Presence, down they fell;
they perish'd at thy Sight.
4 Against insulting Foes advanc'd,
thou didst my Cause maintain;
My Right asserting from thy Throne,
where Truth and Justice reign.

5 The Insolence of Heathen pride
thou hast reduc'd to Shame;
Their wicked Offspring quite destroy'd,
and blotted out their Name.
6 Mistaken Foes, your haughty Threats
are to a Period come:
Our City stands, which you design'd
to make our common Tomb.

7, 8 The Lord for ever lives, who has
his righteous Throne prepar'd;
Impartial Justice to dispense,
to punish or reward.
9 God is a constant sure Defence
against oppressing Rage;
As Troubles rise, his needful Aids
in our Behalf engage.

10 All those who have his Goodness prov'd,
will in his Truth confide;
Whose Mercy ne'er forsook the Man
that on his Help rely'd.
11 Sing Praises therefore to the Lord,
from Sion his Abode;
Proclaim his Deeds, till all the World,
confess no other God.

Part II

12 When he Inquiry makes for Blood,
he calls the poor to Mind:
The injur'd humble Man's Complaint,
Redress from him shall find.
13 Take Pity on my Troubles Lord,
which spiteful Foes create,
Thou that hast rescu'd me so oft
from Death's Devouring Gate.

14 In Sion then I'll sing thy Praise,
to all that love thy Name;
And with loud Shouts of grateful Joy
thy saving Pow'r proclaim.
15 Deep in the Pit they digg'd for me
the Heathen Pride is laid;
Their guilty Feet to their own Snare
insensibly betray'd.

16 Thus, by the just Returns he makes,
the mighty Lord is known;
While wicked Men by their own Plots
are shamefully o'erthrown.
17 No single Sinner shall escape
by Privacy obscur'd;
Nor Nation, from his just Revenge,
by Numbers be secru'd.

18 His suff'ring Saints, when most distress'd,
he ne'er forgets to aid;
Their expectations shall be crown'd,
tho' for a Time delay'd.
19 Arise, O Lord, assert thy Pow'r,
and let not Man o'ercome;
Descend to Judgment, and pronounce
the guilty Heathens Doom.

20 Strike Terror thro' the Nations round,
till, by consenting Fear,
They to each other, and themselves,
but mortal Men appear.

Text Information
First Line: To celebrate thy Praise, O Lord
Language: English
Publication Date: 1760
Scripture:
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