A
HYMN
To be Sung on the
Thanksgiving Day.
Before SERMON. Brunswick Tune.
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COme Britons rejoice, indulge Holy Mirth
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with ravished Hearts sing Praise to the LORD,
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Proclaim it aloud that he reigns thro the Earth;
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with Voices triumphant His Favours record,
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OH praise him who still our Guardian appears,
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and scatters the Clouds that darkend our Skies,
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He baffles our Foes and disperses our Fears,
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and bids us wipe off all the tears from our Eyes,
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New Blessings on us he lately bestowd,
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when scarce any dawn of Hope did remain,
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And brought us a Protestant Prince from abroad,
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Ore Britain his Favourite Island to reign.
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A Prince highly famd for Arts and for Arms,
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with Wisdom mature to manage the State,
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Whose Justice will [awe], whil[st] His Clemency charms,
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and Courage quell Foes which his Virtues create.
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A Prince who has left old Subjects in tears,
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distrest that their Sun his Beams had withdrawn,
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Whilst Britain revives as her Patron appears,
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And offers in transport Her widowed throne,
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The Foes to his Rights to Europes repose,
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against him in vain they cabal and combine,
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What skill can defeate, or what Power oppose,
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when Providence Favours the happy Design?
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In Peace hes arrivd, in triumph hes crownd,
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with Justice and Truth, the Scepter he Sways,
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Oh spread the glad tydings, ye Britains around,
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Invite all your Neighbours to Join in the Praise,
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The praise which you owe to Heavens High King,
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who often hath saved your perishing State,
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His praises tis fit you should wilfully sing,
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And eery new Favour with transport relate,
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Our Rights are secured, our Consciences free,
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of Violence now no more were afraid,
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But hope that our Holy Religion will be
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to dist[a]nt Prosterity safely conveyd,
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Let no sullen Gloom one Face overspread,
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and flatter the Mirth of this Happy Day
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When GOD in such Plenty his Bounties hath shed,
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and driven our Fears and our Dangers away.
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After SERMON. Hanover Tune
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IN lofty Strains, ye grateful Britons sing;
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Sound forth the Praise of Heavns e--ter--nal King.
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On us, Propitious, He Vouchsafes to smile,
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And with con--tinual Blessings crowns our Isle.
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From hence He early chasd the Pagan Night,
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With healing Beams of Evangelick Light.
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And when the Mists of Error hid our Day,
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He burst the Clouds, and chid those Shades away.
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When Sister Churches waste and ruind lye,
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From Wolves and Tygers hunted brethren fly:
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Securd we stand, by his Almighty power,
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No Tygers ravage here nor Wolves devour.
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He scatters Dangers, he from harm defends,
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He blasts our Foes, and he procures us Friends
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He in the needful Time, when Ills invade,
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Breaks thro the skies. and hastens to our Aid.
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Here he his pure Religion still maintains
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Still keeps us free from Misery and Chains,
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No cruel Parents here give Stones for Bread,
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No Tyrants on their prostrate Subjects tread.
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Confederate Hell and Rome their bands unite,
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With baffled Craft, and with successless Spite,
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In vain their Arts, in vain their Arms have tryd,
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In vain invade us, and in vain Divide.
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Whilst God our Great Protector watchful stands,
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Eludes their Plots, or binds their bloody Hands.
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Brings their conceald Design to open Day,
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Or blows at once their boasted Schemes away.
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We long have his almighty Friendship tryd,
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Oft savd by him when none could save besides
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And now he stretches his propitious Hand,
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And gently floats again our sinking Land.
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On gasping Britain He a Prince bestows,
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Friend to our Rights Religion and our Laws,
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(In vain Pretenders Foreign Powers support,
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In vain unthinking Britons Ruin court.)
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Long may he live and reign, of Heavn approvd;
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By Foes reverd, by all His Subjects lovd,
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Whilst we delighted brighten in his Rays,
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Pray for our King, and to his King give Praise.
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