Psalm CXLIV

Verse 1

Blest be the Lord, my strength, my shield, Amid the dangers of the field; 'Tis he instructs me for the fight, And arms me with resistless might.

Verse 2

His constant love, his saving pow'r, Is my defence, my sacred tow'r; Rebellion hears his potent word, And my glad people own their Lord.

Verse 3

Lord, what is man, that he should share Thy kind regard, thy constant care? Can all the weak, the wretched race, Deserve such condescending grace?

Verse 4

Man's short existence, frail at best, Is empty vanity confest; His life, a shadow, fleets away, And leaves no traces of its stay.

Verse 5

Descend from heav'n, almighty Lord, And earth shall tremble at thy word; The smoking hills with conscious fear, Shall own their awful Maker near.

Verse 6

While thy keen-pointed light'nings fly, Like flaming arrows thro' the sky, My foes dispers'd shall rise no more, Nor dare the terrors of thy pow'r.

Verse 7

O let thy potent arm controul These threat'ning waves that round me roll, These sons of vanity that rise, With fraudful hands and impious lies.

Verse 8

Then shall thy name new songs inspire, And wake to joy the sounding lyre, And ev'ry tuneful string shall raise In various notes, my grateful praise.

Verse 9

'Tis pow'r divine, 'tis God alone, Whom kings preserv'd in dangers, own; Who saves, in war's tumultuous strife, From raging swords his servant's life.

Verse 10

O Lord, thy saving pow'r oppose To these invading threat'ning foes; These strangers to thy sacred laws, Whose boast is vain, and false their cause.

Verse 11

Then shall our sons beneath thy care, Grow up like plants erect and fair; Our daughters shall like pillars rise, Where royal buildings charm the eyes.

Verse 12

Then plenty shall our stores increase, Plenty, the lovely child of peace; The fold it's fleecy wealth shall yield, And pour its thousands o'er the field.

Verse 13

The well-fed ox shall then afford His chearful labours to his lord; No more shall cruel plunder reign, Nor want nor misery complain.

Verse 14

O happy people! favour'd state! Whom such peculiar blessings wait; Happy! who on the Lord depend, Their God, their guardian, and their friend.