O praise ye the Lord, prepare a new song,
And let all His saints in full concert join;
Ye tribes all assemble, the feast to prolong,
In solemn procession, with music divine.
O Israel, in Him that made thee, rejoice,
Let all Zion’s sons exult in their king;
While to martial dances you join a glad voice,
Your lutes, harps and timbrels, in harmony bring.
The Lord in His saints still finds His delight,
Salvation from Him the meek shall adorn;
They well may be joyful, sustained by His might,
And crowned by His favor may lift up their horn.
Let carpets be spread, and banquets prepared,
Those altars around, whence incense ascends;
Whilst anthems of glory thro’ Salem are heard,
And God, whom we worship, indulgent attends.
Then as your hearts bound with music and wine,
Inspired by the God who reigns in the place,
Unsheath all your weapons, and bright let them shine,
And brandish your falchions, while chanting His praise.
Then march to the field, the heathen defy,
And scatter His wrath on nations around;
Like angels of vengeance your swords lift on high,
And boast that Jehovah commissions the wound.
Their generals subdued, your triumphs shall grace,
And loaded with chains, their kings shall be brought;
The necks shall ye trample of Canaan’s proud race,
And all their last remnant for slaughter be sought.
No rage of your own such rigor demands;
A sentence divine your arms must fulfill;
Of old He this vengeance consigned to your hands,
And in sacred volumes recorded His will.
This honor, ye saints, appointed for you,
All-grateful receive, and faithful obey,
And while this dread pleasure resistless ye do,
Still make His high praises the song of the day.