Psalm 18 (Version 5, Part 2)

To thine almighty arm we owe

The triumphs of the day

Thy terrors, Lord, confound the foe,

And melt their strength away.

'Tis by thine aid our troops prevail,

And break united powers,

Or burn their boasted fleets, or scale

The proudest of their towers.

How have we chas'd them thro' the field,

And trod them to the ground,

While thy salvation was our shield,

But they no shelter found!

In vain to idol-saints they cry,

And perish in their blood;

Where is a rock so great, so high,

So powerful as our God?

The Rock of Israel ever lives,

His name be ever blest;

'Tis his own arm the victory gives,

And gives his people rest.

On kings that reign as David did,

He pours his blessings down;

Secures their honours to their seed,

And well supports the crown.