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“Sit at my right hand,” said the Lord,
I will make Your foes a footstool;
Because You are in one accord,
For together We will then rule.
The Lord shall send upon His rod,
The mighty scepter from Zion;
So, enemies know He is God,
While He roars like a lion.
He rules in the midst of your foes,
Your people will offer freely;
Themselves and so that the Lord knows,
Upon Day of Judgment really.
On that day upon Your power,
Of the morning out of the womb;
In holy garments that hour,
The dew of your youth from the tomb.
The Lord has sworn change not His mind,
For You are a Priest forever;
Remembering that love is kind,
And will not falter or sever.
The Lord will sit at Your right hand,
He strikes kings on the day of wrath;
For they will honor His command,
Whenever they enter His path.
He shall judge among the nations,
Execute judgment on pagans;
And nothing more than vexations,
That act like a bunch of hooligans.
He shall shatter chiefs over earth,
Dead bodies shall fill where You walk;
No longer to be giving birth,
No longer be able to talk.
He will drink from upon the brook,
And will lift up His head by the way;
For those written within the book,
Their night is turning into day.
Copyright © 2019 Richard Newton Sherrer
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The Priestly King
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