Thus Hath the Son of Jesse Said

Thus hath the son of Jes­se said

When Is­ra­el’s God had raised his head

To high im­pe­ri­al sway:

Struck with his last po­et­ic fire

Then Zi­on’s psalm­ist tuned his lyre

To this har­mo­ni­ous lay.

Thus dic­tates Is­ra­el’s sacr­ed Rock:

Thus hath the God of Ja­cob spoke

By my re­spon­sive tongue:

Behold the just one ov­er men

Commencing his re­li­gious reign!

Great sub­ject of my song.

So gent­ly shines with ge­ni­al ray

Th’unclouded lamp of ris­ing day

And cheers the ten­der flow­ers

When mid­night’s soft dif­fu­sive rain

Hath blessed the gar­dens and the plain

With kind re­fresh­ing show­ers.

Shall not my house this hon­or boast?

My soul th’eter­nal co­ve­nant trust

Well or­dered still and sure?

There all my hopes and wish­es meet;

In death I call its bless­ings sweet

And feel its bond se­cure.

The sons of Be­li­al shall not spring

Who spurn at Heav’n’s ap­point­ed king

And scorn His high com­mand:

Tho’ wide the bri­ars in­fest the ground

And all the sharp­est thorns around

Defy a ten­der hand.

A dread­ful war­ri­or shall ap­pear

With ir­on arms

and mas­sy spear

And tear them from their place:

Touched with the light­ning of His ire

At once they kin­dle in­to fire

And van­ish in the blaze.