PSAL. II Done Aug. 8. 1653. Terzetti

        WHY do the Gentiles tumult, and the Nations          Muse a vain thing, the Kings of th'earth upstand          With power, and Princes in their Congregations          Lay deep their plots together through each Land,          Against the Lord and his Messiah dear.          Let us break off; say they, by strength of hand          Their bonds, and cast from us, no more to wear,          Their twisted cords: he who in Heaven doth dwell          Shall laugh, the Lord shall scoff them, then severe          Speak to them in his wrath, and in his fell          And fierce ire trouble them; but I saith hee          Anointed have my King (though ye rebell)          On Sion my holi' hill. A firm decree          I will declare; the Lord to me hath say'd          Thou art my Son I have begotten thee          This day, ask of me, and the grant is made;          As thy possession I on thee bestow          Th'Heathen, and as thy conquest to be sway'd          Earths utmost bounds: them shalt thou bring full low          With Iron Sceptir bruis'd, and them disperse          Like to a potters vessel shiver'd so.          And now be wise at length ye Kings averse          Be taught ye Judges of the earth; with fear          Jehovah serve and let your joy converse          With trembling; Kiss the Son least he appear          In anger and ye perish in the way          If once his wrath take fire like fuel sere.          Happy all those who have in him their stay.