HYMN LXXXVIII.
8.8.8.8 D
James Montgomery
The Lord of Hosts.--Ps. xlvi.
Come, and behold the works of God, What desolations he will make; In vengeance when He wields His rod, The heathen rage, their kingdoms quake; 92 He utters forth His voice;--'tis felt; Like wax the world's foundations melt; The Lord of Hosts is in the field! The God of Jacob is our shield. | Again He maketh wars to cease, He breaks the bow, unpoints the spear, And burns the chariot;--joy and peace In all His glorious march appear: Silence, O Earth! Thy Maker own; Ye gentiles, He is God alone; The Lord of Hosts is in the field, The God of Jacob is our shield. | |