1 Samuel 2

God hath rais'd my head on high:
O my Heart, inlarge thy joy!
God hath now my Tongue unti'd,
To retort their scorne, and pride.
In thy Grace I will rejoyce;
Praise thee, while I have a voyce.
Who so holy as our Lord!
Who but he to be ador'd!
Who such Wonders can effect!
Who so strongly can protect!
Be no longer arrogant,
Nor in Folly, proudly vaunt:
God our secret thoughts displaies;
All our works his Ballance weighes.
Giants Bowes his Forces breake;
He with strength invests the Weake.
Who were full, now serve for bread;
Those who serv'd, infranchised.
Barren Wombs with Children flow;
Fruitfull Mothers childlesse grow.
God fraile Man of life deprives;
Those who sleepe in Death, revives:
Leads us to our silent Tombes;
Brings us from those horrid Roomes:
Riches sends; sends Poverty:
Casteth downe, and lifts on high.
He from the despised Dust,
From the Dunghill takes the Just;
To the height of Honour brings;
Plants them in the Thrones of Kings.
God, Earths mighty Pillars made;
He the World upon them laid.
He his Servants feet will guide:
Wicked Soules, who swell with Pride,
Will in endlesse Darknesse chaine;
Since all humane strength is vaine.
He shall grind his Enemies;
Blast with Lightning from the Skies:
Judge the habitable Earth,
All of high and humble birth:
Shall with strength his King renowne,
And his Christ with Glory crowne.