1 Lord, not to us, we claim no Share,
but to thy sacred name
Give Glory, for thy Mercy's sake,
and Truth's eternal Fame.
2 Why should the Heathen cry, where's now
the God whom we adore?
3 Convince them that in Heav'n thou art,
and uncontroul'd thy Pow'r.

4 Their Gods but Gold and Silver are,
the Works of mortal Hands;
5 With speechless Mouth, and sightless Eyes,
the molten Idol stands.
6 The Pageant has both Ears and Nose,
but neither hears nor smells;
7 Its Hands and Feet nor feel, nor move;
no Life within it dwells.

8 Such senseless Stocks they are, that we
can nothing like 'em find;
But those who on their Help rely,
and them for Gods design'd.
9 O Isr'el, make the Lord your Trust,
who is your Help and Shield;
10 Priests, Levites, trust in him alone,
who only Help can yield.

11 Let all, who truly fear the Lord,
on him they fear rely;
Who them in Danger can defend,
and all their Wants supply.
12,13 Of us he oft has mindful been,
and Isr'el's House will bless;
Priest, Levites, Proselytes, ev'n all
who his great Name confess.

14 On you, and on your Heirs he will
increase of Blessings bring:
15 Thrice happy you, who Fav'rites are
of this Almighty King.
16 Heav'n's highest Orb of Glory, he
his Empire's Seat design'd;
And gave this lower Globe of Earth
a Portion to Mankind.

17 They who in Death and Silence sleep
to him no Praise afford:
18 But we will bless for evermore
our ever-living Lord.