Sit Thou at My right hand, until I make Thine enemies Thy footstool. The Lord shall send the rod of Thy strength out of Zion: rule Thou in the midst of Thine enemies.@Psalm 110:1–2
The Lord unto my Lord thus spake:
Till I Thy foes Thy footstool make,
Sit Thou in state at My right hand;
Supreme in Zion Thou shalt be,
And all Thy proud opposers see
Subjected to Thy just command.
Thee, in Thy power’s triumphant day,
The willing people shall obey;
And, when Thy rising beams they view,
Shall all (redeemed from error’s night)
Appear more numerous and bright
Than crystal drops of morning dew.
The Lord hath sworn, nor sworn in vain,
That, like Melchizedek’s, Thy reign
And priesthood shall no period see;
Anointed Prince! Thou, bending low,
Shalt drink where darkest torrents flow,
Then raise Thy head in victory!