Classic Poem

XV.
Sing a song of joy,
Prayse our God with mirth:
His flocke who can destroy?
Is hee not Lord of heav'n and earth?

Sing wee then secure,
Tuning well our strings:
With voyce, as Eccho pure,
Let us renowne the King of Kings.

First who taught the day
From the East to rise?
Whom doth the Sunne obey
When in the Seas his glory dyes?

Hee the Starres directs
That in order stand:
Who heav'n and earth protects,
But hee that fram'd them with his hand?

Angels round attend,
Wayting on his will;
Arm'd millions he doth send
To ayde the good or plague the ill.

All that dread his Name,
And his Hests observe,
His arme will shield from shame:
Their steps from truth shall never swerve.

Let us then rejoyce,
Sounding loud his prayse:
So will hee heare our voyce,
And blesse on earth our peacefull dayes.