This Spacious Earth Is All The Lords The


The spacious Earth is all the Lord’s;
the Lord’s her Fulness is,
The World, and they that dwell therein,
by sov’reign Right are His.
He fram’d and fix’d it on the Seas;
and his Almighty Hand
Upon inconstant Floods has made
the stable Fabrick stand.

But for Himself this Lord of All
one chosen Seat design’d;
O! who shall to that sacred Hill
desir’d Admittance find?
The Man whose Hands and Heart are pure,
whose Thoughts from Pride are free;
Who honest Poverty prefers,
to gainful Perjury.

This, this is he, on whom the Lord
shall show’r his Blessings down;
Whom God his Saviour shall vouchsafe
with Righteousness to crown.
Such is the Race of Saints, by whom
the sacred Courts are trod;
And such the Proselytes, that seek
the Face of Jacob’s God.

Erect your Heads, eternal Gates;
unfold, to entertain
The King of Glory; See! He comes
with his celestial Train.
Who is this King of Glory? Who?
The Lord for Strength renown’d;
In Battle mighty; o’er his Foes,
eternal Victor crown’d.

Erect your Heads, ye Gates; unfold
in State to entertain
The King of Glory; See! He comes
with all His shining Train.
Who is this King of Glory? who?
The Lord of Hosts, renown’d;
Of Glory He alone is King,
who is with Glory crown’d.