Myriads of myriads,
Compass us around,
Surround the hill on which we stand,
And cover all the ground.
Why do they rage and grit their teeth?
Why do they wage this war?
Rebellion is what loosed each sheath,
They’re rebels, scores and scores!
They challenge thus our capitol,
With thousands of spear shafts
Yet when our King our ruler saw,
He could only laugh.
“I have set my throne in Zion,
Upon this holy hill,
You can not siege, you can not burn,
You can not come and kill.
“Your spears, your swords, your missiles all,
Will here avail you not.
At my command you all would fall,
Defeating you un-faught.
“Behold my Son! Dear Son, hark You:
You are my Son indeed.
Today I have begotten You,
Let it be decreed!
“Ask of me and I will give
Whate’er you dare to ask,
Redeem them, get them: I will bless,
You’ll rule from first to last.
“Behold this horde, and take this rod,
Then dash them like a jar.
Or use your rod to rule instead,
All regions near and far.
“Curb this childish revolt,
Redeem this wayward foe,
For those repentant, humble ones,
For them, Your blood will flow.
“The rest do shatter. Lay to waist!
Their own choice they make.
Their will be done. Un-sheath Your sword.
Ope the firy lake!”
And so we swore allegiance there,
With fear we did rejoice.
We kissed the son. We vowed to serve
Him with our hands and voice.
Be ye wise – do likewise.
In Him take rest – You will be blessed.