1 To thee, O God, we render praise,
to thee with thanks repair;
For that thy Name to us is nigh,
thy wondrous works declare.
2 In Israel when my throne is fixed,
with me shall justice reign:
3 The land with discord shakes, but I
the sinking frame sustain.
4 Deluded wretches I advised
their errors to redress,
And warned bold sinners, that they should
their swelling pride suppress.
5 Bear not yourselves so high, as if
no pow'r could yours restrain;
Submit your stubborn necks, and learn
to speak with less disdain.
6 For that promotion, which to gain
your vain ambition strives,
From neither east, nor west, nor yet
from southern climes arrives.
7 For God the great disposer is,
and sov'reign Judge alone,
Who casts the proud to earth, and lifts
the humble to a throne.
8 His hand holds forth a dreadful cup,
with purple wine 'tis crowned;
The deadly mixture, which his wrath
deals out to nations round.
Of this his saints sometimes may taste;
but wicked men shall squeeze
The bitter dregs, and be condemned
to drink the very lees.
9 His prophet, I to all the world
this message will relate;
The justice then of Jacob's God
my song shall celebrate.
10 The wicked's pride I will reduce,
their cruelty, disarm;
Exalt the just, and seat him high,
above the reach of harm.