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Isaac Watts - Psalm 135
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Praise due to God, not to idols.

Awake, ye saints; to praise your King,
Your sweetest passions raise,
Your pious pleasure, while you sing,
Increasing with the praise.

Great is the Lord, and works unknown
Are his divine employ;
But still his saints are near his throne,
His treasure and his joy.

Heav`n, earth, and sea confess his hand;
He bids the vapors rise;
Lightning and storm at his command
Sweep through the sounding skies.

All power that gods or kings have claimed
Is found with him alone
But heathen gods should ne`er be named
Where our Jehovah`s known.

Which of the stocks or stones they trust
Can give them showers of rain?
In vain they worship glitt`ring dust,
And pray to gold in vain.

[Their gods have tongues that cannot talk,
Such as their makers gave;
Their feet were ne`er designed to walk,
Nor hands have power to save.

Blind are their eyes, their ears are deaf,
Nor hear when mortals pray;
Mortals that wait for their relief
Are blind and deaf as they.]

O Britain, know thy living God,
Serve him with faith and fear;
He makes thy churches his abode,
And claims thine honors there.
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