Why do heathen nations rage?
Why vain things do people mind?
Kings of earth in plots engage,
Rulers are in league combined.
Thus against the Lord they speak,
Thus against His Christ they say,
Let us join their bands to break,
Let us cast their cords away.
He shall laugh who sits above,
God Most High shall scorn them all;
Them in anger fierce reprove;
Burning wrath shall on them fall.
Yet according to My will,
Have I set My King to reign;
Him on Zion’s holy hill,
My Anointed I’ll maintain.
Thus hath said the Lord Most High,
“I will publish the decree;
Thee I own My Son, for I
Have this day begotten Thee.
“Ask, for heritage I’ll make
All the heathen nations Thine;
Thou shalt in possession take
Earth to its remotest line.
Let Thy rod of iron fall;
Break them with Thy scepter’s sway;
Dash them into pieces small,
Like the potter’s brittle clay.
Therefore, kings, be wise, give ear;
Hearken, judges of the earth;
Learn to serve the Lord with fear,
Mingle trembling with your mirth.
Fear His wrath, and kiss the Son,
Lest ye perish from the way,
When His wrath is but begun,
Blest are all that on Him stay.