PSAL. II Done Aug. 8. 1653. Terzetti by John Milton Lyrics

        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.