THE PSALMS of DAVID, PSALM LVIII

Do ye speak Righteousness, indeed, While ye confederate sit? Or is, ye Sons of earthly Men, Your Judgment just, and fit? Yea, rather foul, malicious Deeds, Your wicked Heart intends; Thus sway'd, you openly weigh out The Violence of your Hands. Degen'rate Race! that, from the Womb, Strangers to Virtue, rise; As soon as born, they go astray, And give themselves to Lies. Their Words, like Serpent's Poison, wound; Deaf Asps, they stop their Ear; The Charmer's wisest Charms are vain, They'l no Instruction hear. O God, their Mouth, so us'd to Blood, Of their sharp Teeth disarm; Break the young Lyon's Teeth, O Lord, Nor leave them Pow'r to harm. Let them dissolve, as Mounts of Snow, Away whose Waters soak; May all his Arrows, when he brings Them to his Bow, be broke. As slimy Snails, which melt away, So may they waste each one; Like an untimely Birth, that dies, And never sees the Sun. Quicker than Thorns can seeth the Pot, He'll seize on them alive; In his hot Wrath away them chase, And with a Whirlwind drive. Such righteous Vengeance will excite, The Triumphs of the Good; Who, Victors o'er such wicked Men, Shall wash their Feet in Blood. Then Men shall say, "sure for the Just, "There is a kind Reward; "Sure, there's a God, who judgeth right, "And doth the Earth regard.