Ye Mighty Potentates Enthroned On High
Ye mighty potentates, enthron’d on high,
Ye warrior-chieftains, crown’d with victory;
Not to yourselves attribute the success;
Give God the glory, and his goodness bless.
His strong right-hand in grateful songs proclaim,
Shout forth his praises, and extol his name.
His voice majestic, never heard in vain,
Sends down, to glad the earth, the fleecy rain;
His voice is in the rumbling thunder heard;
And in the red impetuous lightning fear’d;
Revere his voice, the stormy winds, that sweep.
The mad’ning waves that bellow in, the deep.
Lo! lofty Lebanon exults no more;
Their scatter’d boughs her cedars now deplore;
Th’ almighty speaks, their tow’ring honours fall,
To his tremendous voice submissive all:
At his command e’en firmest mountains move,
And, like the younglings of the pasture, rove.
His voice Arabia’s dreary desarts hear;
The howling wilderness is struck with fear;
With terror struck, the bestials of the wood
Lose all their strength, and drop their embryo-brood:
All earth, all heav’n, his wondrous glory own,
And fall with rev’rence ‘fore his awful throne:
Revere him all the waters of the main,
And the whole universe avows his reign.
Nor causeless they avow to all that pay
Due rev’rence to his will, his laws obey,
Will he th’ affiftance of his mercy give,
And in eternal affluence bid them live.