James Merrick Psalm 50

James Merrick Psalm 50

The Lord, th'Almighty monarch, spake,
 * And bade the Earth the summons take,

Far as his eyes the realms survey
 * Of rising and declining day.

Reveal'd from Sion's sacred bound,
 * The seat with matchless beauty crown'd,

Our God his course shall downward bend,
 * Nor silent to his work descend.

At his approach the fire shall blaze,
 * And kindled pour its streaming rays;

Devouring flames shall march before,
 * And mightiest tempests round him roar.

Heav'n from above shall hear his call,
 * And thou, the vast terrestrial ball!

While man's whole race their Judge shall meet,
 * In countless throngs before his seat.

"My saints collect from distant poles,
 * Collect the just and faithful souls,

With whom my compact firm has stood,
 * Seal'd with the spotless Victim's blood."

Th'applauding heav'ns the changeless doom,
 * While God the balance shall assume,

In full memorial shall record,
 * And own the justice of their Lord.

With humblest awe, my people, hear;
 * For God, thy God, his voice shall rear:

Myself, O Israel, will attest
 * The guilt that stains thy erring breast.

Though at the altar's kindled fire
 * No bleeding victim should expire,

Not ritual sacrifice withheld
 * My theme of just complaint shall yield:

Still let thy stall the steer detain,
 * Still let thy goat untouch'd remain

Amidst his herd-mates: from thy hands
 * Nor goat nor steer thy Lord demands:

Mine are the beasts that range the wood,
 * Mine all the tame or savage brood

Whose train the earth's wide pasture fills,
 * And wanders o'er her thousand hills.

Each fowl, that from its airy flight
 * Descends upon the mountain's height,

Each brute, that o'er the champaign strays,
 * My all-observing eye surveys.

Admit, I hunger; shall thy God
 * Descend from thee to ask his food,

Lord of the world and all its store
 * Thy aid, thou child of earth, implore?

Shall bulls to ease my want be slain,
 * Or blood of goats my thirst restrain?

Go, suppliant at my altar bow,
 * And pay thy thanks, and pay thy vow:

(Be this thy off'ring:) in thy woes
 * On me with stedfast hope repose;

So shall my ear receive thy pray'r,
 * And, grateful, thou my mercy share.

Thou wretch by discipline unaw'd,
 * (Thus to the impious speaks my God,)

Thy secret crimes to me are known;
 * I see my laws behind thee thrown:

And thou, dost thou with lips profane
 * The precepts of my will explain,

And, rank'd thyself amid my foes,
 * My terms of offer'd grace propose?

Say, has the thief to thee applied,
 * And thou thy wanted aid denied?

Or fail'd th'adult'rer e'er to see
 * A partner of his guilt in thee?

Train'd in each well-dissembled art
 * To veil the purpose of thine heart,

Thy tongue to fraud has loos'd the reins,
 * And lie with lie connected feigns.

Hast thou not sat, with cruel aim
 * Reflecting on a brother's fame,

And with invented scandal stain'd
 * Whom erst one womb with thee contain'd?

While yet my anger I suppress'd
 * Within the secrets of my breast,

And silent deign'd thy crimes to see,
 * Thy folly pictur'd me like thee:

But soon my op'ning lips shall yield
 * The just rebuke so long withheld,

And bid, before thy conscious eyes,
 * Thy guilt in all its horror rise.

Ye souls forgetful of my fear,
 * With full regard my dictates hear;

Lest, at my word, your life the grave
 * Demand, and none be nigh to save.

Who yields the sacrifice of praise,
 * His best-accepted homage pays:

Who forms his steps aright, shall know
 * What joys from my salvation flow.