4 Saints should be joyful in their King,
Ev'n on a dying bed;
And like the souls in glory sing,
For God shall raise the dead.
5 Then his high praise shall fill their tongues,
Their hands shall wield the sword;
And vengeance shall attend their songs,
The vengeance of the Lord.
6 When Christ his 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 sinners bound in chains
New triumphs shall afford;
Such honour for the saints remains:
Praise ye, and love the Lord.
Psalm 150. 1 2 6.
A song of praise.
1 In God's own house pronounce his praise,
His grace he there reveals;
To heaven your joy and wonder raise,
For there his glory dwells.
2 Let all your sacred passions move,
While you rehearse his deeds;
But the great work of saving love
Your highest praise exceeds.
3 All that have motion, life, and breath,
Proclaim your Maker blest;
Yet when my voice expires in death,
My soul shall praise him best.