What desp'rate madness strikes the heathen? Say

Verse 1

What desp'rate madness strikes the heathen? Say, What vain delusive hopes the nations sway?

Verse 2

Earth's haughty tyrants in their pride rebel; With impious rage the mad'ning rulers swell; Thro' all, thro' all, the fatal frenzy flies; Against the Lord, against his Christ, they rise.

Verse 3

"Our fouls (they boast) we'll from this bondage free, "And vindicate our native liberty."

Verse 4

But they in vain Omnipotence defy, The great, the sov'reign Lord, that rules on high, Laughs all their empty menaces to scorn;

Verse 5

See, see against them his dread fury burn! Hear 'gainst his enemies his thunder break! Hear him (O hear) the solemn mandate speak;

Verse 6

"Thou still, my son, on sacred Sion reign, "And o'er the conquer'd globe my pow'r maintain."

Verse 7

For me, while breath inspires this vital frame, The law my God hath giv'n me, I'll proclaim; "This day, my son, have I begotten thee;

Verse 8

"Ask of thy sov'reign father--thine shall be "Whate'er the regions of the world contain, "Whatever aether bounds, whate'er the main;

Verse 9

"Thou with an iron rod the nations sway; "Bruise them, like vessels form'd of potter's clay."

Verse 10

But hear, ye monarchs of the world, be wise; Dispel this dark'ning mist before your Eyes;

Verse 11

Serve the great father, and his will revere; Temper your joy with pure, with holy fear,

Verse 12

Embrace the Son, and due obedience shew; If but awhile his dire resentment glow, Eternal death's your doom--thrice happy all, Who trust in him, on his dread name who call!