Thou sovereign Lord, that fill's the earth with dread

Verse 1

Thou sov'reign Lord, that fill'st our earth with dread, Shall impious foes thy heritage invade? Shall they thy sacred, solemn dome profane? Shall o'er thy favour'd tribes destruction reign?

Verse 2

Dead are the pious souls that lov'd thy word, Dead are they all, the victims of the sword: They're to the wolves expos'd in open air; Lo! their dismember'd limbs the vultures tear.

Verse 3

Round Salem's walls flow scarlet streams of blood, As when the rains increase th' impetuous flood; Their mangled carcasses unburied lie, And not one friend that will a grave supply.

Verse 4

And both alike, the living and the dead, A theme for laughter and contempt are made.

Verse 5

O gracious father, will thy dreadful ire For ever rage, and shall it burn like fire?

Verse 6

Pour out thy fury rather on the race, That not avow thy pow'r, thy law embrace: Those impious kingdoms, blasphemously vain, Who to invoke thy holy name disdain:

Verse 7

The ruin of thy people who resolve, And in devouring flame their towns involve.

Verse 8

Recall not, Lord, our heinous crimes of yore, And let thy wrath vindictive burn no more: Quite overwhelm'd in killing woes we are; Prevent us with thy love; in pity spare.

Verse 9

Why shou'd the heathen spread their taunts abroad, And blasphemously cry, "Where is their God?"

Verse 10

To us extend thy clemency divine, And let thy glory in our pardon shine: Assert thyself O Lord, and 'fore our eyes In all the terrors of thy vengeance rise; Revenge the blood of innocence they've spilt, And punish, punish their enormous guilt.

Verse 11

Thy pow'r exert, to heal the captive's grief, To give him, from his galling chains, relief; Bid them in peace, in joy, in safety, breathe, Who're destin'd by their cruel foes to death.

Verse 12

The vile reproach, the contumelies, that they Cast on thy people, and on thee, repay; O let a sev'n-fold punishment be theirs, In our deliv'rance while thy pow'r appears;

Verse 13

While we, great shepherd, thy peculiar flock, Make thee our whole support, our strength, our rock; And, in thy pastures as we feed, display Thy praise, thy pow'r, thy love, from day to day.