Psalm 9 (Version 2, Part 2)

When the great Judge, supreme and just,

Shall once inquire for blood,

The humble souls, that mourn in dust,

Shall find a faithful God.

He from the dreadful gates of death

Does his own children raise:

In Zion's gates, with cheerful breath,

They sing their Father's praise.

His foes shall fail with heedless feet

Into the pit they made;

And sinners perish in the net

That their own hands had spread.

Thus by thy judgments, mighty God!

Are thy deep counsels known;

When men of mischief are destroy'd,

The snare must be their own.

The wicked shall sink down to hell;

Thy wrath devour the lands

That dare forget thee, or rebel

Against thy known commands.

Tho' saints to sore distress are brought,

And wait and long complain,

Their cries shall not be still forgot,

Nor shall their hopes be vain.

[Rise, great Redeemer, from thy seat,

To judge and save the poor;

Let nations tremble at thy feet,

And man prevail no more.

Thy thunder shall affright the proud,

And put their hearts to pain,

Make them confess that thou art God,

And they but feeble men.]