Psalm 48 (Magnus Dominus)

He that hath eternall beeing,
Glorious is, and glorious showes
In the cittie he hath chose,
Where stands his holie hill.
Hill Sion, hill of fairest seeing,
Cittie of the king most greate,
Seated in a northlie seate,
All climes with joy doth fill.
In each pallace shee containeth,
God a well-known rock remaineth.

One daie kings a daie appointed,
There with joined force to be,
See they it? the things they see
Amaze their mated mindes.
Flyeng, trembling, disappointed,
Soe theie feare, and soe they fare,
As the wife, whose wofull care
The panges of child bed findes.
Right as shipps from Tarshish going,
Crusht with blasts of Eurus blowing.

Now our sight hath matched our hearing,
In what state Gods cittie stands,
How supported by his hands,
God ever holds the same.
In thy temples mid'st appeering,
We their favoure Lorde attend:
Righteous Lord both free from end,
Thie fame doth match thy name.
Thie just hand brings Sion gladnes,
Turns to mirth all Judaes sadnes.

Compasse Sion in her standing,
Tell her towres, mark her fortes,
Note with care the statelie portes
Her roiall houses beare.
For that ages understanding,
Which shall come when we shall goe,
Gladd in former time to know,
How manie, what they weare.
For God is our God for ever,
Us till death forsaking never.