Why do the Gentiles tumult, and the
Muse a vain thing, the Kings of th'earth
With power, and Princes in their
Lay deep their plots together through each Land,
Against the Lord and his Messiah dear.
Let us break off; say they, by strength of
Their bonds, and cast from us, no more to wear,
Their twisted cords: he who in Heaven doth
Shall laugh, the Lord shall scoff them, then
Speak to them in his wrath, and in his fell And fierce ire trouble them; but I saith
Anointed have my King (though ye rebell)On Sion my holi' hill. A firm decreeI will declare; the Lord to me hath
Thou art my Son I have begotten
This day, ask of me, and the grant is made;
As thy possession I on thee
Th'Heathen, and as thy conquest to be
Earths utmost bounds: them shalt thou bring full
With Iron Sceptir bruis'd, and them disperse Like to a potters vessel shiver'd so.
And now be wise at length ye Kings
Be taught ye Judges of the earth; with
Jehovah serve and let your joy
With trembling; Kiss the Son least he
In anger and ye perish in the
If once his wrath take fire like fuel sere.
Happy all those who have in him their stay.
Done Aug. 8. 1653.
Terzetti.
