Classic Poem

Psalm XLVIII

Great is the Lord in every clime,
And worthy of the strain sublime
 Which echoes to his throne;
But chiefest in his holy hill,
In his own city, where his will
 And word are fully known.

Mount Zion! she is passing fair,
Whose noble piles and purest air,
 And stately palms invite;
Salem is on the northern wing,
The city of th' almighty king,
 And all the world's delight.

The sojourner that seeks to God,
And they that flee the tyrants rod,
 Arrive from every shore;
For known is that benign command
Which blesses every lib'ral hand,
 And hospitable door.

Behold! the kings and their allies
Came to Jerusalem, like spies,
 Our treasures to survey;
They saw our glory with remorse,
And with their vast united force
 The monarchs went their way.

The walls they measured in their mind,
And view'd those ramparts they design'd
 To brave and circumvent;
But troubl'd at the tow'rs in spite,
Of malice, multitudes and might,
 They fled with discontent.

For fear took hold upon them there,
And anguish working on despair
 Confounded man and steed;
Such are the terror and the cries
Of some base harlot when she dies
 Of an abortive seed.

The vessels of enormous rate
Conducted o'er their armed freight
 From Tarshish faithless coasts;
He sent upon them, hulk and mast,
The spirit of the eastern blast,
 And overwhelm'd their boasts.

As we have heard it with our ears,
So now thy loving care appears
 Within these sacred walls,
Which thou the God of arms hast made;
He shall be present to their aid
 Whene'er his people calls.

O God, the tribes of thine elect
In trembling fearfulness expect
 Beneath thine hallow'd roof,
Until the word of thy good will
Descend our wishes to fulfill,
 And keep our wants aloof.

O God, thy praise and endless fame
Is as that universal name
 To which all flesh appeals;
By thee remotest earth is bless'd,
And daily bounties heap'd and press'd
 For all thy justice deals.

Let Zion dedicate the day
To mirth, and let the streamers play
 From every goodly spire;
Th' almighty judge is on our side,
And let Judea's blooming pride
 In joy themselves attire.

March out from Zion, walk the rounds,
And measure all her utmost bounds,
 Survey her fort by fort;
Her tow'rs their altitude and strength,
Her villages their breadth and length,
 And make a true report.

The ramparts and the moat review—
The palaces—with caution due
 Apply the reed and line—
Deliver what the Lord has done,
And safely now from sire to son
 The property consign.

For this our Saviour from the rage
Of tyrants is in every age
 Our succour and defence;
Christ o'er his people shall preside,
Christ e'en to death shall be our guide,
 And shall redeem us thence.