Words: Brady and Tate, A New Version of the Psalms of David
1 O Come, loud anthems let us sing, loud thanks to our Almighty King; For we our voices high should raise when our salvation's rock we praise. 2 Into his presence let us haste, to thank him for his favors past; To him address, in joyful songs, the praise that to his Name belongs. 3 For God, the Lord, enthroned in state is with unrivalled glory great; A King, superior far to all, whom gods the heathen falsely call. 4 The depths of earth are in his hand, her secret wealth at his command; The strength of hills that reach the skies subjected to his empire lies. 5 The rolling Ocean's vast abyss by the same sovereign right is his: 'Tis moved by his Almighty hand, that formed and fixed the solid land. 6 O let us to his courts repair, and bow with adoration there; Down on our knees devoutly all before the Lord our Maker fall. 7 For he's our God, our shepherd he, his flock and pasture sheep are we; If then you'll (like his flock) draw near, to-day if you his voice will hear, 8 Let not your hardened hearts renew your fathers' crimes and judgments too; Nor here provoke my wrath, as they in desert plains of Meribah. 9 When through the wilderness they moved, and me with fresh temptations proved, They still, through unbelief, rebelled, while they my wondrous works beheld. 10,11 They forty years my patience grieved, though daily I their wants relieved; Then, 'Tis a faithless race, I said, Whose heart from me has always strayed, 12 They ne'er will, tread my righteous path; therefore to them, in settled wrath, Since they despised my rest, I sware that they should never enter there.