O Sing a new Song, to our God aboue, Auoid profane ones, ‘tis for holy Quire: Let Israel sing Songs of holy Loue To him that made them, with their Hearts on fire: Let Sions Sonnes lift vp their Voice, and sing Carolls and Anthems to their Heauenly King.
Let not your voice alone his praise forth tell, But moue withall, and praise him in the Dance; Cymbals and Harps let them be tuned well, ‘Tis he that doth the Poores estate aduance: Doe this not onely on the solemne daies, But on your secret Beds your Spirits raise.
O let the Saints beare in their Mouth his Praise, And a two edged Sword drawne in their Hand, Therewith for to reuenge the former Daies, Vpon all Nations, that their Zeale withstand; To binde their Kings in chaines of Iron strong, And manacle their Nobles for their wrong.
Expect the time, for ‘tis decreed in Heauen; Such Honour shall vnto his Saints be giuen.