PSALM LXVIII.

Paraphrased. THE MAJESTY, THE POWER, THE JUSTICE, AND

MERCY OF GOD. ARISE, O God, assume thy might!

Shall proud oppressors still unawed devour, Ştill trample on the poor man's right,

And lewdly scorn thy power?

When roaring from the western deep

The black-wing'd tempests rush,
When o'er the hills with headlong sweep

The inundations gush;
As then the whirling chaff is driven,

So swept away shall be
All who despise the laws of Heaven,

Nor honour pay to thee.

But, О ye just, with rapture raise
Your cheerful voices in his praise;
With sacred awe and holy mirth
Resound the God of heaven and earth;

The God whose mercy knows no end,
The poor man's and the widow's friend,

The helpless orphan's sire;
Who round the meek afflicted just,
Though crush'd and humbled in the dust,

Is still a wall of fire.

When thou, O God, didst march before
Thy people to the promised shore,

Then shook old earth: The sky

Shot lightnings from on high; The rapid Jordan bared his bed, The ocean saw his God and fled, The lofty cliffs of Sinai nod

[God. And tremble at the presence of their thundering

The Lord Jehovah gave the word,

And loud the tribes resound,
And mighty kings and mighty hosts

Lay scatter'd o'er the ground:
Dispersed as snow on Salmon's plain
So fell, so lay the mighty slain,
And with their purple spoils are crown'd

The tender virgin train.

Thousands of angels at thy gate,

And great archangels stand,
And twenty thousand chariots wait,

Great Lord, thy dread command !
Through all thy great, thy vast domains,

With godlike honours clad, Captivity in captive chains

Triumphing thou hast led.

That thou mightst dwell with men below,

And be their God and King,
From Bashan and the land of woe

Shalt thou thy people bring:
From Bashan and the desert shore
To blooming fields, and cities fair,
While sacred songsters march before,
And Jacob's princes faint no more,

Shalt thou the way prepare.
VOL, I.

Lo! Egypt's kings and wisest men

Shall bend the duteous knee,
And Ethiopia, wide and great,
Through all her vast extended state,

Shall stretch her hands to thee.
But, awful Sovereign! who can stand
Before the terrors of thy hand,
When thy right hand impends the blow
To strike a proud obdurate foe?
Yet to thy saints, O God of prayer,

How mild thy mercies shine!
The tenderest father's ardent care

But ill resembles thine:
Thy mercies far, oh, far above
Thy other wonders shine,
A mother's ever watchful love
But ill resembles thine!

MICKLE.

A PARAPHRASE ON PSALM CXLVIII. O AZURE vaults! O crystal sky!

The world's transparent canopy, Break your long silence, and let mortals know With what contempt you look on things below.

Wing'd squadrons of the God of war,

Who conquer whosoe'er you are, Let echoing anthems make his praises known On earth his footstool, as in heaven his throne.

Great eye of all, whose glorious ray

Rules the bright empire of the day, 0, praise his name, without whose purer light Thou hadst been hid in an abyss of night.

Ye moon and planets, who dispense,

By God's command, your influence; Resign to him, as your Creator due, That veneration which men pay to you.

Fairest, as well as first, of things,

From whom all joy, all beauty springs; 0, praise the almighty Ruler of the globe, Who useth thee for his empyrean robe.

Praise him, ye loud harmonious spheres,

Whose sacred stamp all nature bears,
Who did all forms from the rude chaos draw,
And whose command is the universal law:

Ye watery mountains of the sky,

And you so far above our eye,
Vast ever moving orbs, exalt his name,
Who gave its being to your glorious frame.

Ye dragons, whose contagious breath

Peoples the dark retreats of death, Change your fierce hissing into joyful song, And praise your Maker with your forked tongue.

Praise him, ye monsters of the deep,

That in the sea's vast bosom sleep;
At whose command the foaming billows roar,
Yet know their limits, tremble, and adore.

Ye mists and vapours, hail and snow,

And you who through the concave blow, Swift executors of his holy word, [Lord. Whirlwinds and tempests, praise the Almighty

Mountains, who to your Maker's view

Seem less than molehills do to you, Remember how, when first Jehovah spoke, All heaven was fire, and Sinai hid in smoke.

Praise him, sweet offspring of the ground,

With heavenly nectar yearly crown'd; And, ye tall cedars, celebrate his praise, That in his temple sacred altars raise.

Idle musicians of the spring,

Whose only care's to love and sing, Fly through the world, and let your trembling throat Praise your Creator with the sweetest note.

Praise him, each savage furious beast,

That on his stores do daily feast:
And you, tame slaves of the laborious plough,
Your weary knees to your Creator bow.

Majestic monarchs, mortal gods,

Whose power hath here no periods, May all attempts against your crowns be vain! But still remember by whose power you reign.

Let the wide world his praises sing, Where Tagus and Euphrates spring, And from the Danube's frosty banks, to those Where from an unknown head great Nilus flows.

You that dispose of all our lives,

Praise him from whom your power derives ; Be true and just like him, and fear his word, As much as malefactors do your sword.

Praise him, old monuments of time;

0, praise him in your youthful prime; Praise him, fair idols of our greedy sense; Exalt his name, sweet age of innocence.

Jehovah's name shall only last,

When heaven, and earth, and all is pass'd : Nothing, great God, is to be found in thee, But unconceivable eternity.