5 Into thy hands, my Saviour-God, In firm dependence on that truth, 6 Back from the borders of the grave Nor would I urge a speedier flight 7 Where thou determin'st mine abode, And earth is heaven with thee. CCCLXV. The last Words of David. 2 Samuel xxiii. 1—8*. 1 THUS hath the son of Jesse said, When Israel's God had rais'd his head To high imperial sway: Struck with his last poetic fire, Zion's sweet Psalmist tun'd his lyre To this harmonious lay. 2 Thus dictates Israel's sacred rock: 3 So gently shines with genial ray 4 Shall not my house this honour boast? 5 The sons of Belial shall not spring, * Agreeable to the ingenious metrical version of the learned Dr. Richard Grey. Though wide the briars infest the ground, 6 A dreadful warrior shall appear CCCLXVI. A Military Ode. Psalm cxlix. Probably composed by David, to be sung when his Army was marching out to War against the Remnant of the devoted Nations of Canaan, and first went up in solemn Procession to the House of God at Jerusalem, there, as it were, to consecrate the Arms, which he put into their Hands. The Beds referred to, Ver. 5, where probably the Couches, on which they lay at the Banquet attending their Sacrifices; which gives a noble Sense to a Passage, on any other Interpretation hardly intelligible. 1PRAISE ye the Lord, prepare a new song, 2 O Israel, in him that made thee rejoice; While to martial dances you join a glad voice, Your lutes, harps and timbrels in harmony bring. 3 The Lord in his saints still finds his delight; Salvation from him the meek shall adorn; They well may be joyful, sustain'd by his might, And crown'd by his favour may lift up their horn. 4 Let carpets be spread, and banquets prepar'd Those altars around, whence incense ascends; Whilst anthems of glory through Salem are heard, And God, whom we worship, indulgent attends. 5 Then as your hearts bound with music and wine, Inspir'd by the God, who reigns in the place: Unsheath all your weapons, and bright let them shine, And brandish your faulchions, while chaunting his praise. 6 Then march to the field; the heathen defy; And scatter his wrath on nations around: Like angels of vengeance your swords lift on high, grace, 7 Their generals subdued your triumphs shall And loaded with chains their kings shall be brought; 1 On the necks shall ye trample of Canaan's proud race, Of old He this vengeance consign'd to your hands, 9 This honour, ye saints, appointed for you, And, while this dread pleasure resistless ye do, CCCLXVII. For the Thanksgiving-Day for the Peace, April 25, 1749. 2 3 4 5 6 Britain, adore the guardian of thy state; When rebel-bands with desperate madness join'd, Drove back the tide, that delug'd half our land, He gave our fleets to triumph o'er the main, Nor found their safety in the attempted flight; Taught by their bonds, how vainly they pretended Those to distress, whom Israel's God defended. Fierce storms were summon'd up in Britain's aid, And meagre famine hostile lands o'erspread; By sufferings bow'd their conquests they release, Nor scorn the overtures of equal peace: Contending powers congratulate the blessing, Joint hymns of gratitude to heaven addressing. While we beneath our vines and fig-trees sit, Or thus within thy sacred temple meet, A TABLE TO FIND OUT ANY HYMN BY THE FIRST LINE OF IT. And will the Judge descend B Enquire, ye pilgrims, for the way Eternal and immortal King Eternal God, our humbled souls Eternal God, our wondring souls Eternal King, thy robes are white Eternal source of every joy Eternal source of life and thought Exalted prince of life, we own 189 Captives of Israel, hear 105 144 Come, our indulgent Saviour, come 245 263 315 18 D 64 255 187 12 137 321 154 1 165 43 322 248 |