Great Is The Lord Most Worthy He Of Prai


Great is the Lord; most worthy he of praise;
Sing, sing his glory in melodious lays,
Ye sons of Sion, where’s the blest abode,
The radiant habitation of our God.
Of Sion’s hill most beauteous is the site,
Sion, the nation’s joy, the earth’s delight:
Full to the north the king’s bright mansions lie,
And with resplendent beauty strike the eye.
There Israel’s race have oft beheld the Lord
Maintain their cause, and pow’rful help afford.
With mad’ning rage the furious monarchs came,
With fierce intent t’ enwrap our walls in flame;
They view’d with wonder, trembled with dismay,
And, struck with terror, hast’ned quick away;
Not greater terror strikes the matron’s heart,
When of approaching throes she dreads the smart;
Not greater fears the heartless crew assail,
When o’er the stout-ribb’d ship the waves prevail.
As to their sons our fathers oft have told
Thy glorious deeds, thy miracles of old;
So in the city of our God we’ve view’d,
The same bright scheme of wonders still pursued;
Still shall our progeny on thee rely,
Thou’lt still relieve, when in distress they cry.
Thy gracious mercies, Lord, we’ll ne’er forget,
But ‘fore thy altar gratefully repeat;
Thy praise, thy justice, glorious as thy name,
To earth’s extremest bounds will we proclaim;
Yes; Sion’s hill to all the realms around,
Thy great, thy righteous judgments, shall resound;
The sons of Salem, and her virgin train,
To endless time renew the grateful strain.
Walk round, ye faithful tribes; her walls explore;
Her strong, her lofty turrets, number o’er;
Observe her forts, her palaces, with care,
And to your sons her wond’rous strength declare;
That they may know, how mighty is the Lord,
What aids he’ll to his chosen race afford;
How he’ll support them ever with his pow’r:
And, knowing, praise his name, till time’s no more.