CLXIII. GOD comforting and rejoicing over Zion.

YES, 'tis the Voice of Love divine!
And O! how sweet the Accents sound!
Afflicted Zion, rise and shine,
Fair Mourner, prostrate on the Ground.

The mighty GOD, thy glorious King,
Tender to pity, strong to save,
Hath sworn he will Salvation bring,
Tho' Sorrow press thee to the Grave.

He all a Father's Pleasure knows
To fold thee in his dear Embrace;
His Heart with secret Joy o'erflows,
And chearful Smiles adorn his Face.

At length the inward Extacy
In heav'nly Musick breaks its Way ;
Jehovah leads the Harmony,
And Angels teach their Harps the Lay .

Fain would my Lips the Chorus join,
And tell the list'ning World my Joys,
But Condescension so divine
In Silence swallows up my Voice.