Words: Brady and Tate, A New Version of the Psalms of David
1 The wicked fools must sure suppose that God is but a name; This gross mistake their practice shows, since virtue all disclaim: 2 The Lord looked down from heav'n's high tow'r, the sons of men to view; To see if any owned his pow'r, or truth; or justice knew. 3 But all, he saw, were backwards gone, degen'rate grown, and base; None for religion cared, not one of all the sinful race. 4 But are those workers of deceit so dull and senseless grown, That they, like bread, my people eat, and God's just pow'r disown? 5 Their causeless fears shall strangely grow, and they, despised of God, Shall soon be foiled; his hand shall throw their shattered bones abroad. 6 Would he his saving pow'r employ to break our servile band, Loud shouts of universal joy should echo through the land.