1 Unshaken as the sacred hill,
And firm as mountains be,
Firm as a rock the soul shall rest
That leans, O Lord, on thee.
2 Not walls nor hills could guard so well
Old Salem's happy ground,
As those eternal arms of love
That every saint surround.
3 While tyrants are a smarting scourge
To drive them near to God,
Divine compassion does allay
The fury of the rod.
4 Deal gently, Lord, with souls sincere,
And lead them safely on
To the bright gates of Paradise,
Where Christ their Lord is gone.
5 But if we trace those crooked ways
That the old serpent drew,
The wrath that drove him first to hell
Shall smite his followers too.
Psalm 125:2. S. M. The saints' trial and safety; or, Moderated afflictions.
1 Firm and unmov'd are they
That rest their souls on God;
Firm as the mount where David dwelt
Or where the ark abode.
2 As mountains stood to guard
The city's sacred ground,
So God and his almighty love
Embrace his saints around.
3 What tho' the Father's rod
Drop a chastising stroke,
Yet, lest it wound their souls too deep,
Its fury shall be broke.
4 Deal gently, Lord, with those
Whose faith and pious fear,
Whose hope, and love, and every grace
Proclaim their hearts sincere.