The Forty-Sixth Psalm Poem by Cornelius Arnold

God is our Hope and Strength, a present Aid,
When threat'ning Dangers on all Sides invade;
Altho' the Cloud-topt Mountains tott'ring shake,
And ev'ry Hill with trembling Horror quake;
Nay, tho' those Mountains should be roll'd away,
And lodg'd amidst the Terrors of the Sea,
We will not fear-
The Rivers of the Flood at his high Will,
Shall glad the City of God-Sion's Hill
Shall ring aloud with Joy-the Holy Place,
Residence of his more immediate Grace;
God's in the midst of her, his Help alone,
Shall be her surest Stay, and that right soon;
The Heathen Pow'rs mov'd on in dread Array,
But God hath spoke, the Earth shall melt away;
The Lord of Hosts is with us in Distress;
The God of Jacob is our sure Redress:
Come hither and behold his Works, his Wrath,
Shewn in the mighty Ruins of the Earth;
He maketh universal War to cease,
And bids contending Nations be at Peace;
The Bow he breaketh, and the vengeful Spear,
In splint'ring Peices wounds the ambient Air;
The stately Chariots mourn their goodly Frame,
Burnt up, devoured in the greedy Flame;
Be ye still then, and know that I am Lord;
Among the Heathen I will be ador'd,
And no less Homage shall the whole Earth afford:
The Lord of Hosts is with us in Distress;
The God of Jacob is our sure Redress.