O all ye Nations record,
The Praises of the Lord;
Ye people through the Universe,
Your Makers praise rehearse.
For He to us great kindness shewes,
And Mercies large bestowes.
His constant Truth no time decaies:
The Lord for ever praise.
More verses by Henry King
- To His Friends Of Christ-Church Upon The Mislike Of The Marriage Of The Arts Acted At Woodstock
- Sonnet. Tell Me You Stars That Our Affections Move
- Upon A Table-Book Presented To A Lady
- Sonnet. To Patience
- On The Earl Of Essex