A glorious theme my raptur'd heart inspires

1 A glorious theme my raptur'd heart inspires,
A theme the most sublime my genius fires;
The king--the king--to him pertains the song--
The king inspires the lay, and fills my tongue,
2 The king, excelling all of mortal birth;
Far fairer than the fairest sons of earth;
What nameless beauty! what majestic grace!
What heav'nly radiance beams upon his face!
The king, to whom the pow'r, that all obey,
Eternal honours gives, eternal sway.
3 Approach, unconquer'd chief, and on thy thigh
Gird thy victorious sword, with majesty,
4 With glory bright-array'd; around thee shine
Fair truth, stern justice, clemency divine;
Crown'd with bright conquest thy resistless hand,
Obey the nations round thy great command;
5 Pour dreadful vengeance on the stubborn foe,
And let thy fatal arrows bring them low.
6 Thy sov'reign pow'r no time shall bound, no space;
Not chang'd by years, not circumscrib'd by place;
7 On justice founded, 'twill for ever last;
No force shall harm it, no attempts shall biast
The glorious ruler of the realms above
(O blest indulgence of almighty love)!
Above thy fellows high exalts thy name;
The sacred oils adown thy vestments stream;
8 Thy vestments, o'er thy graceful shoulders spread,
Their odorif'rous scents around thee shed;
Of eastern Cassia the admir'd perfume,
Of myrrhe the tears, of Aloes the gum.
9 But what bright blooming maids around attend,
That from a long imperial race descend?
Around thy queen submissively they wait,
Thy queen, at thy right-hand who sits in state;
Thy queen, with Ophirs spark'ling gold array'd,
With glittering gems adorn'd her glorious head.
10 And thou, fair consort, listen to the lay;
Thy gentle soul let my sweet numbers sway;
Thy royal father and thy natal seat,
Thy dear, thy weeping relatives forget;
11 Look on thy prince, thy prince revere, who lives
But on the joys thy heav'nly beauty gives:
12 To thee proud Tyre shall her gay presents send;
Thee shall the noble and the great attend;
Wait on thy nod, and bow with suppliant knee;
Pleas'd to receive a gracious smile from thee.
13 Rich are the royal charmer's robes--behold,
How bright she glistens in her braided gold;
With all their efforts art and nature strove,
To make her worthy of a monarch's love.
14. She comes; the king receives the lovely prize,
And speechless tranfport lightens in his eyes.
Her maids attend her, maids divinely fair,
Whose lovely forms their high descent declare:
With shouts of joy the people round them wait,
To hail their entrance in the palace-gate.
16 O high-born maid! regret thy fire no more,
But view the pleasures of my regal pow'r;
Let all thy beauties, let thy love be mine;
I'll make thee mother of a royal line;
Thy sons shall boast a wide extended sway,
And distant nations shall their rule obey.
17 Thy beauties too, the subject of my song,
Shall still employ my lyre, and tune my tongue;
Thy beauties late posterity shall sing,
And bless the lovely fair, that charm'd the king.


Source: New Version of the Psalms of David #XLV