A psalm for New England.
1 When God, provok'd with daring crimes, Scourges the madness of the times, He turns their fields to barren sand, And dries the rivers from the land.
2 His word can raise the springs again, And make the wither'd mountains green, Send showery blessings from the skies, And harvests in the desert rise.
3 [Where nothing dwelt but beasts of prey, Or men as fierce and wild as they; He bids th' opprest and poor repair, And builds them towns and cities there.
4 They sow the fields, and trees they plant, Whose yearly fruit supplies their want: Their race grows up from fruitful stocks, Their wealth increases with their flocks.
5 Thus they are blest; but if they sin, He lets the heathen nations in, A savage crew invades their lands, Their princes die by barbarous hands.
6 Their captive sons, expos'd to scorn, Wander unpity'd and forlorn; The country lies unfenc'd, untill'd, And desolation spreads the field.
7 Yet if the humbled nation mourns, Again his dreadful hand he turns; Again he makes their cities thrive, And bids the dying churches live.]
8 The righteous, with a joyful sense, Admire the works of providence; And tongues of atheists shall no more Blaspheme the God that saints adore.
9 How few, with pious care, record The wondrous dealings of the Lord! But wise observers still shall find The Lord is holy, just, and kind.