PSALME XCVIII.
As the 47.
SING to the King of kings,
Sing in unusuall Laies;
That hath wrought wondrous things,
His Conquest crown with Praise:
Whose Armes alone,
And sacred Hands,
Their impious Bands
Have overthrown.
He Justice brings to light;
His saving Truth extends,
Even in the Gentiles sight,
To Earths remotest Ends.
His Heavenly Grace
At full displayd,
And promise made
To Jacobs Race.
Let all that dwell on Earth
Their high Affections raise,
VVith universall Mirth,
And loudly sing his Praise:
To Musick joyne
The warbling Voice,
Let all rejoyce
With Joy divine.
The sprightly Trumpet sound;
The shrill-voic'd Cornet bring:
Let all with Joy abound
Before the Lord our King.
Rore out you Seas,
You spangled Skies,
All you comprise,
Rejoyce with these.
Flouds clap your thronging waves;
You Hils exalt your mirth: