Hymn: The Song of the Blessed Virgin

MY SOUL does Magnifie the Lord,
My Spirit in God my Saviour does rejoyce;
My Spirit his thankful Praises shall record,
And my Soul, thence awak't, provoke my Voice:
Nor Soul, nor Spirit, my Judgment, or my Will,
My Voice, or Lyre, shall in his Praise lie still,
But all my Powers I'll summon, and their noblest skill.

For (Lo!) his Hand-Maids low estate,
He from on High has view'd with kind regard;
His Hand-Maids, to th' encrease of whose sad Fate,
The Royal Blood, from whence she sprang, prest hard:
But now all Nations shall Record me BLEST,
And David s Seed, of David's Throne possest,
To' his Blood the Glory shall return, to' his Land its rest.

Great are the things, which He hath done,
And done for me, who' Himself is great of Might;
Great tho He be, 'tis Holiness alone,
Wherein He of all Names does most delight:
All but of 's Mercy, which in him the same,
He to Gen'erations therefore does Proclaim,
And keep with them, who fear Him, and his Holy Name.

To all beside, by His Arm He is known,
And strength Almighty, which none can repel;
His Arm, that from their height the Proud pulls down,
And open throws their Plots hid deep as Hell:
That Kings and Kingdoms at its Will does sway,
And gives their Crowns to those ith' dust who lay,
With good things th' Hungry fills, the' Rich empty sends away.

Israel thus hath He fill'd, thus rais'd,
And rais'd up thus, will with his Hand uphold;
Israel his first-born; And our God be prais'd,
Who mindful o th' Inheritance past of Old,
Warrants to' His Child, and with it all Decreed
By' His Word to our Fathers, to' Abraham and his Seed,
And all whom Abraham's Faith makes Parties to the Deed.