English metrical Old Version (John Hopkins)
English text
Great is the Lord, and with great praise
To be advanced still
Within the city of our God,
Upon his holy hill.
Mount Sion is a pleasant place,
It gladd'neth all the land;
The city of the mighty King
On her north-side doth stand:
Within the palaces thereof
God is a refuge known;
For lo, the kings are gather'd, and
Together they are gone:
But when they did behold it so,
They wonder'd, and they were
Astonish'd much, and suddenly
Were driven back with fear;
Great terror there on them did fall,
For grief of heart they cry,
As doth a woman when she shall
Go travail speedily.
As thou with eastern winds the ships
Upon the sea dost break,
They were destroy'd, and e'en as we
Have heard our fathers speak.
So in the city of the Lord
We saw as it was told;
Yea, in the city which our God
For ever will uphold.
O Lord, we wait, and do depend
On thy good help and grace;
For which we do all times attend
Within thy holy place.
O Lord, according to thy name
For ever is thy praise,
And thy right hand, O Lord, is full
Of righteousness always.
For thy judgements let Sion mount
Be filled full with joys,
Also of Judah grant, O Lord,
The daughters to rejoice.
Go, walk about all Sion hill;
Yea, round about her go,
And tell the towers that thereon
Are builded on a row;
And mark ye well her bulwarks all,
Behold her towers there,
That ye may tell thereof to them
That after shall be here.
For this most mighty God, our God
For evermore is he,
And unto death we are resolv'd
Our guide he still shall be.
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English metrical New Version (Tate & Brady)
English text
The Lord, the only God, is great,
And greatly to be prais'd
In Sion, on whose happy mount
His sacred throne is rais'd.
Her tow'rs, the joy of all the earth,
With beauteous prospect rise;
On her north side th'Almighty King's
Imperial city lies.
God in her palaces is known;
His presence is her guard:
Confederate kings withdrew their siege,
And of success despair'd.
They view'd her walls, admir'd and fled,
With grief and terror struck;
Like women whom the sudden pangs
Of travail had o'ertook.
No wretched crew of mariners
Appear like them forlorn,
When fleets from Tarshish' wealthy coasts
By eastern winds are torn.
In Sion we have seen perform'd
A work that was foretold;
In pledge that God, for times to come,
His city will uphold.
Not in our fortresses and walls
Did we, O God, confide;
But on the temple fix'd our hopes,
In which thou dost reside.
According to thy sov'reign Name,
Thy praise through earth extends;
Thy pow'rful arm, as justice guides,
Chastises or defends.
Let Sion's mount with joy resound,
Her daughters all be taught
In songs his judgments to extol,
Who this deliv'rance wrought.
Compass her walls in solemn pomp,
Your eyes quite round her cast;
Count all her tow'rs, and see if there
You find one stone displac'd.
Her forts and palaces survey,
Observe their order well:
That with assurance to your heirs
This wonder you may tell.
This God is ours, and will be ours,
Whilst we in him confide;
Who, as he has preserv'd us now,
Till death will be our guide.
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Metrical Paraphrase (Isaac Watts, 1719)
English text
PART ONE
Great is the Lord our God,
And let his praise be great;
He makes his churches his abode,
His most delightful seat.
These temples of his grace,
How beautiful they stand!
The honors of our native place,
And bulwarks of our land.
In Zion God is known,
A refuge in distress;
How bright has his salvation shone
Through all her palaces!
When kings against her joined,
And saw the Lord was there,
In wild confusion of the mind
They fled with hasty fear.
When navies tall and proud
Attempt to spoil our peace,
He sends his tempests roaring loud,
And sinks them in the seas.
Oft have our fathers told,
Our eyes have often seen,
How well our God secures the fold
Where his own sheep have been.
In every new distress
We'll to his house repair;
We'll think upon his wondrous grace,
And seek deliverance there.
PART TWO
Far as thy name is known,
The world declares thy praise;
Thy saints, O Lord, before thy throne,
Their songs of honor raise.
With joy let Judah stand
On Zion's chosen hill,
Proclaim the wonders of thy hand,
And counsels of thy will.
Let strangers walk around
The city where we dwell,
Compass and view thine holy ground,
And mark the building well;
The orders of thy house,
The worship of thy court,
The cheerful songs, the solemn vows,
And make a fair report.
How decent and how wise!
How glorious to behold!
Beyond the pomp that charms the eyes,
And rites adorned with gold.
The God we worship now
Will guide us till we die,
Will be our God while here below,
And ours above the sky.
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