1.

Why thus enrag'd, ye Tribes profane?
Why strive the Gentiles thus in vain?
Why, rouz'd by Discord's fierce Alarms,
Do headlong Nations rush to Arms?

2.

Earth's scepter'd Lords rebellious rise
Against the Ruler of the Skies,
And Him on whose distinguish'd head
His hand the sacred oil has shed.

3.

In factious Counsels thus they join,
And vaunting brave the Pow'r divine;
" Quick let us each renounce their Sway,
" And cast their hated bands away. "

4.

God from on high their threats shall hear,
Laugh, as the tumult meets his ear,
And, arm'd with vengeance, thus aloud
Superior quell the srantic Croud:

5.

" Yet, Mortals, yet your Monarch see,
" And bow to Him the humble knee;
" His throne on Sion 's hill my band
" Has built, and what I build shall stand. "

6.

Thy Will, great Father, I obey;
Pleas'd I accept the offer'd Sway,
And through the Earth's extended frame
The Counsels of thy Love proclaim.

7.

" Thou art my Son, on this blest Day
" Begotten; (thus I hear thee say;)
" Prefer thy wish, and to thy hand
" Lo! I consign each heathen Land.

8.

" I bid thee rule the Nations round,
" Far as to Earth's remotest bound;
" Though join'd in firmest league, thy foes
" With vain attempt thy pow'r oppose.

9.

" Thy arm the iron rod extends;
" Behold them, as the stroke descends,
" Crush'd like the potter's brittle store,
" And scatter'd, to unite no more. "

10.

Ye Kings, from Error's sleep arise,
Ye Judges of the Earth, be wise;
And, warm'd with duteous zeal, conspire
To serve with joy th' eternal Sire.

11.

O, lest Ye perish from the way
That leads to realms of endless day,
With awful love, with holy fear,
His Son, the World's great Hope, revere.

12.

If yet but kindling in his hand
The vengeful bolt uplifted stand,
Thrice happy, who on Him depend,
And thankful own th' almighty Friend.