Classic Poem

They who the Lord their fortress make
Shall like the tow'rs of Sion rise,
Which dreadful earthquakes never shake,
Nor raging tumults of the skies.
Lo! as the hills of Solyma
Divine Jerusalem enclose,
So shall His angels, in the day
Of danger, shield them from their foes.
The wicked shall not long subject
Their holy race, lest through despair
They should the laws of God neglect,
And be as their commanders are.
Lord, to the good be good; the just
Protect; their punishments increase
Who follow their rebellious lust;
But crown Thy Israel with peace.