XLVI. The Rage of Enemies restrained, and overruled to the divine Glory.

ACCEPT, great GOD, thy Britain's Songs,
While grateful Joy unites our Tongues
To own the Work, thy Hand has done:
Thy Hand has crush'd our cruel Foes,
When in rebellious Troops they rose,
And swore to tread our Glory down.

With Hell confed'rate on their Side,
People and Prince their Rage defied,
And in proud Hope devour'd us all:
Thy Hand its Banner has display'd,
Beckon'd its Hero to our Aid,
And in one Day their Legions fall.

Thus shalt thou still maintain thy Throne,
And prove, that thou art GOD alone,
Tho' Earth, and Hell new Efforts try:
'Midst all the Tumult, they can raise,
Envenom'd Wrath exalts thy Praise,
Till hush'd at thy Rebuke it dye.

So swell the Surges of the Sea,
And roar in their impetuous Way,
As they would deluge Earth again;
So strike they on th' unshaken Rock,
Dash'd by the Fierceness of their Shock,
And foam to feel their Fury vain.