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Thrice happy, who in happy hour
To Heaven their praise bestow,
Before they feel the blow !
Now, now's our time! ye wretches bold and blind,
Heaven, men, and all,
Now press thy fall,
O Babylon, how art thou fallen-
Thy streets forlorn,
To wilds shall turn,
Now give your songs of Zion to the wind,
comes, pursuant to divine decree,
CHORUS OF YOUTHS.
Rise to raptures past expressing,
Sweeter from remember'd woes ;
Comes to give the world repose.
CHORUS OF VIRGINS.
Cyrus comes, the world redressing,
Love and pleasure in his train ;
Comes to soften every pain.
Hail to him with mercy reigning,
Skill'd in every peaceful art;
Only binds the willing heart.
THE LAST CHORUS.
But chief to thee, our God, our father, friend,
Let praise be given to all eternity;
Let us and all, begin and end in Thee !
Thompson and Davidson, Printers, Great St. Helens, Bishopsgate.