Psalm 48

The Lord is most Majesticall;
Most highly to be prais'd by all,
Within the Citie of our God,
And Mansion blest by his abode.
Faire Sion hath a pleasant Site;
Of Earth the Beautie and Delight:
Upon the North-side bordering,
The Citie of the Mightie King.
God dwels within her loftie Towers;
Secur'd from all assailing Powers.
Conspiring Kings her ruine sought;
Who armed Troupes before her brought.
At once they saw, admir'd, and fled;
Their hearts surpriz'd with sudden Dread.
Such feare, such pangs possest our foes;
As women suffer in their Throwes.
At thy command blacke Eurus rores,
And spreads his wracks on Tharsian shores.
We, what we heard our Fathers tell,
Have seene, who in this Citie dwell;
The Citie of our God, which Hee
Shall ever from destruction free.
Thy Favours, Lord, with Thankfulnesse
We in thy Temple still professe.
As is thy Name, thou God of Might,
So are thy Praises infinite;
And stretch to Earths remotest Bound:
Thy Hand for Justice farre renown'd.
O Sion, Judah's Diadem,
You Daughters of Jerusalem,
Unite your Joyes, and glory in
His Judgement, which your eyes have seene.
Goe walke the Round of Sion; tell
Her Towers; observe her Bulwarks well:
On her faire Buildings cast thine eye;
Declare it to Posteritie.
For God will still our God remaine,
And us unto our Last sustaine.