Isaac Watts · 101 of 724

The Psalms of David · Psalm 45

I'll speak the honors of my King, His form divinely fair; None of his sons of mortal race May with the Lord compare.

Sweet is thy speech, and heav'nly grace Upon thy lips is shed; Thy God, with blessings infinite, Hath crowned thy sacred head.

Gird on thy sword, victorious Prince, Ride with majestic sway; Thy terrors shall strike through thy foes, And make the world obey.

Thy throne, O God, for ever stands; Thy word of grace shall prove A peaceful sceptre in thy hands, To rule the saints by love.

Justice and truth attend thee still, But mercy is thy choice; And God, thy God, thy soul shall fill With most peculiar joys.