With Heart Sincere Thy Praise O Lord Ill

With heart sincere, thy praise, O Lord, I’ll sing;
Thy wond’rous works extol, my God, my king:
By thee supported, I’ll in thee rejoice;
Thy name, thy praise, thy pow’r, shall fill my voice.
Elate in vain, my vanquish’d foes are fled,
They perish; lo! thy presence strikes them dead:
For thou my righteous cause hast made thy own,
And spoke thy judgments from thy awful throne:
Thou badst the heathen give their madness o’er;
By thee their names eras’d, shall live no more.
Imperious foe; thy menaces are void,
Like the sack’d cities, by thy rage destroy’d.
But thou, O mighty Lord, shalt ever reign,
Thy just tribunal ever shalt maintain;
By righteous acts thy faithful people sway,
And shield the pious souls who thee obey.
A certain refuge to the sore-opprest,
Thou, when thy wisdom wills, shalt give them rest.
Thee her support the anguish’d soul shall make,
Assur’d, thy servants thou wilt ne’er forsake.
Ye sons of Sion, his high name extol;
Shout forth his praises to the nations all;
Not unreveng’d he lets the guiltless die,
And, when the humble plains, he hears his cry.
O gracious God, whom my defence I found,
When impious foes breath’d forth destruction round,
Preserve me still, that I in grateful lays,
‘Midst Salem’s joyous throngs, may hymn thy praise.
Fall’n in the pit, for others they prepare,
Entangled in their toils, the heathen are:
O wond’rous justice of a righteous God!
From their own wily acts their ruin flow’d.
Thus their own schemes their own destruction prove;
Thus perish they, who not their Maker love,
But all, who humbly on their God rely,
Want not his aid, when in distress they cry.
Yes, Lord, arise–let not vain man prevail;
Convince them, that thy truth will never fail;
Make them thy sov’reign pow’r, thy justice own;
That they’re but men, that thou art God alone.