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PSALM 148. Second Part. L.M.
Universal praise to God. (cont.)

2	The Lord, how absolute he reigns! Let ev'ry angel bend the knee; Sing of his love in heav'nly strains, And speak how fierce his terrors be.
3	Mortals, can you refrain your tongue, When nature all around you sings? O for a shout from old and young, From humble swains and lofty kings!
4	Wide as his vast dominion lies, Make the Creator's name be known; Loud as his thunder shout his praise, And sound it lofty as his throne.
5	Jehovah! 'tis a glorious word! O may it dwell on ev'ry tongue! But saints, who best have known the Lord, Are bound to raise the noblest song.

PSALM 149. C.M.
The triumph of believers.

1	ALL ye that love the Lord, rejoice,    And let your songs be new; Amid the church with cheerful voice,    His later wonders show.
2	The Jews, the people of his grace,    Shall their Redeemer sing; And Gentile nations join the praise,    While Zion owns her King.
3	The Lord takes pleasure in the just,    Whom sinners treat with scorn; The meek, that lie despis'd in dust,    Salvation shall adorn.
4	Saints shall be joyful In their King,    Ev'n on a dying bed; And, like the souls, in glory sing:    For God shall raise the dead.

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PSALM 149. C.M.
The triumph of believers. (cont.)

5	Then his high praise shall fill their tongues,    Their hand shall wield the sword; And vengeance shall attend their songs;    The vengeance of the Lord.
6	When Christ the judgment-seat ascends,    And bids the world appear; Thrones are prepar'd for all his friends,    Who humbly lov'd him here.
7	Then shall they rule, with iron rod,    Nations that dar'd rebel; And join the sentence of their God,    On tyrants doom'd to hell.
8	The royal sinner bound in chains,    New triumphs shall afford: Such honour for the saints remains;    Praise ye, and love the Lord.

PSALM 150. First Part. P.M.
Universal praise to the God of our salvation.

1	IN Zion's sacred gates,    Let hymns of praise begin;    Where acts of faith and love    With ceaseless beauty shine: In mercy there, while God is known, Before his throne, with songs appear.
2	In heav'n, his house on high,    Ye angels, lift your voice;    Let heav'nly harps resound,    And happy saints rejoice: The glories sing, that ever shine, With pomp divine, around your King.
3	His wondrous acts demand,    His wisdom and his grace,    The labours of our hands,    And transports of our praise: