AN
Hymn
of
Praise
TO
The
God
of
ENGLAND
,
FOR
Three
Great
Salvations
.
(
VIZ.
)
-
From
the
Spanish
Invasion
,
1588.
-
From
the
Gunpowder-Plot
,
Nov.
5.
-
From
Popery
and
Slavery
by
King
William
of
Glorious
Memory
,
who
landed
Nov.
5.
1688.
Compos'd
Nov.
5.
1695.
I.
INfinite
God
,
whose
Counsels
stand
Like
Mountains
of
Eternal
Brass
,
Pillars
to
prop
our
Sinking
Land
,
Or
Guardian
Rocks
to
break
the
Seas
.
II
.
From
Pole
to
Pole
thy
Name
is
known
,
Thee
a
Whole
Heaven
of
Angels
praise
,
Our
Laboring
Tongues
would
strike
thy
Throne
With
the
Loud
Triumphs
of
thy
Grace
.
III
.
Part
of
thy
Church
by
thy
Command
Stands
rais'd
upon
the
Brittish
Isles
,
There
,
said
the
Lord
,
to
Ages
stand
Firm
as
the
Everlasting
Hills
.
IV
.
In
vain
the
Spanish
Ocean
roar'd
,
And
roll'd
its
Billows
to
our
Shore
;
The
Billows
sunk
beneath
thy
Word
,
And
all
the
Floating
War
they
bore
.
V.
Come
,
said
the
Sons
of
bloody
Rome
,
Let
us
provide
new
Arms
from
Hell
,
And
down
they
digg'd
thro'
Earth's
dark
Womb
,
And
ransack'd
all
the
burning
Cell
.
VI
.
Old
Satan
lent
them
fiery
Stores
,
Infernal
Coal
,
and
Sulph'rous
Flame
,
And
all
that
burns
,
and
all
that
roars
,
Outrageous
Fires
of
dreadful
Name
.
VII
.
Beneath
the
Senate
and
the
Throne
Engines
of
Hellish
Thunder
lay
,
There
the
dark
Seeds
of
Fire
were
sown
To
spring
a
Bright
,
but
dismal
Day
.
VIII
.
Thy
Love
beheld
the
black
Design
,
Thy
Love
that
Guards
thine
England
round
;
Strange
!
how
it
quench'd
the
fiery
Mine
,
And
crush'd
the
Tempest
under
Ground
.
THE
Second
Part
.
I.
ASsume
my
Tongue
a
Nobler
Strain
,
Sing
the
New
Wonders
of
the
Lord
;
The
Foes
revive
their
Pow'rs
again
,
Again
they
die
beneath
his
Sword
.
II
.
Dark
as
our
Thoughts
our
Minutes
roll
While
Tyranny
possest
the
Throne
;
And
Murtherers
of
an
Irish
Soul
Ran
threatning
Death
thro'
every
Town
.
III
.
The
Roman
Priest
and
Brittish
Prince
Joyn'd
their
best
Force
and
blackest
Charms
;
And
the
fierce
Troops
of
neighbouring
France
Offer'd
the
Service
of
their
Arms
.
IV
.
'Tis
done
,
they
cry'd
,
and
laught
aloud
,
The
Courts
of
Darkness
rang
with
Joy
,
Th'
Old
Serpent
hiss'd
,
and
Hell
grew
proud
,
While
Zion
mourn'd
her
Ruine
nigh
.
V.
But
lo
!
The
great
Deliverer
Sails
Commission'd
from
Jehovah's
Hand
;
And
Smiling
Seas
,
and
wishing
Gales
Convey
him
to
the
longing
Land
.
VI
.
The
happy
Day
and
happy
Year
Nov.
5.
1688.
Both
in
our
new
Salvation
meet
:
The
Day
that
quencht
the
Burning
Snare
,
Nov.
5.
And
Year
that
burnt
th'
Invading
Fleet
.
1588.
VII
.
Now
did
thine
Arm
,
O
God
of
Hosts
,
Now
did
thine
Arm
shine
dazling
bright
;
The
Sons
of
Might
their
Hands
had
lost
,
And
Men
of
Blood
forgot
to
fight
.
VIII
.
Brigades
of
Angels
lin'd
the
way
,
And
guarded
William
to
his
Throne
;
There
,
ye
Celestial
Warriours
,
stay
,
And
make
his
Palace
like
your
own
.
IX
.
Thus
,
Mighty
God
,
thy
Praise
Divine
From
Heaven
and
Earth
at
once
shall
flow
;
Angels
and
Men
conspire
and
joyn
In
Hallelujahs
,
here
below
.
X.
All
Hallelujah
,
Heavenly
King
,
Tis
thy
Victorious
Arm
we
sing
;
Fly
round
the
Globe
,
ye
Ecchoing
Joys
,
And
vaulted
Skies
repeat
the
Noise
.