The king, O Lord, with songs of praise
Shall in Thy strength re­joice;
And blest with Thy sal­va­tion raise
To Hea­ven his cheer­ful voice.

Thy sure de­fense through na­tions round
Has spread his glo­ri­ous name;
And his suc­cess­ful act­ions crowned
With ma­jes­ty and fame.

Then let the king on God alone
For time­ly aid re­ly;
His mer­cy shall sup­port the throne,
And all our wants sup­ply.

But, right­eous Lord, his stub­born foes
Shall feel Thy dread­ful hand;
Thy venge­ful arm shall find out those
That hate his mild com­mand.

When Thou against them dost en­gage,
Thy just, but dread­ful doom
Shall, like a fie­ry ov­en’s rage,
Their hopes and them con­sume.

Thus, Lord, Thy won­drous power de­clare,
And thus ex­alt Thy fame;
Whilst we glad songs of praise pre­pare
For Thine al­migh­ty name.