1 For ever blest be God the Lord,
Who does his needful Aid impart,
At once both Strength and Skill afford
To wield my Arms with warlike Art.
2 His Goodness is my Fort and Tow'r,
My strong Deliv'rance and my Shield;
In him I trust, whose matchless Pow'r
Makes to my Sway fierce Nations yield.
3 Lord, what's in Man, that thou should'st love
Such tender Care of him to take?
What in his Offspring could Thee move
Such great Account of him to make?
4 The Life of Man does quickly fade,
His Thoughts but empty are and vain;
His Days are like a flying Shade,
Of whose short Stay no Signs remain.
5 In solemn State, O God, descend,
Whilst Heav'n its lofty Head inclines;
The smoaking Hills asunder rend,
Of thy Approach the awful Signs.
6 Discharge thy dreadful Lightning round,
And make thy scatter'd Foes retreat;
Them with thy pointed Arrows wound,
And their Destruction soon compleat.
7.8 Do Thou, O Lord, from Heav'n engage
Thy boundless Pow'r my Foes to quell,
And snatch me from the stormy Rage
Of threat'ning Waves that proudly swell.
Fight Thou against my foreign Foes,
Who utter Speeches false and vain;
Who tho' in solemn Leagues they close,
Their sworn Engagements ne'er maintain.
9 So I to Thee, O King of Kings,
In joyful Hymns my Voice shall raise,
And Instruments of various Strings
Shall help me thus to sing thy Praise.
10 "God does to Kings his Aid afford,
"To them his sure Salvation sends;
"'Tis He that from the murd'ring Sword,
"His Servant David still defends."
11 Fight Thou against my foreign Foes,
Who utter Speeches false and vain;
Who tho' in solemn Leagues they close,
Their sworn Engagements ne'er maintain.
12 Then our young Sons like Trees shall grow,
Well planted in some fruitful Place;
Our Daughters shall like Pillars show,
Design'd some Royal Court to grace.
13 Our Garners fill'd with various Store,
Shall us and ours with Plenty feed,
Our Sheep increasing more and more,
Shall thousands and ten thousands breed.
14 Strong shall our lab'ring Oxen grow,
Nor in their constant Labour faint;
Whilst we no War nor Slav'ry know,
And in our Streets hear no Complaint.
15 Thrice happy is that Peoples Case,
Whose various Blessing thus abound:
Who God's true Worship still embrace,
And are with his Protection crown'd.
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