Poetry Forum Areas

Introduce Yourself

New to PoetrySoup? Introduce yourself here. Tell us something about yourself.

Looking for a Poem

Can't find a poem you've read before? Looking for a poem for a special person or an occasion? Ask other member for help.

Writing Poetry

Ways to improve your poetry. Post your techniques, tips, and creative ideas how to write better.

High Critique

For poets who want unrestricted constructive criticism. This is NOT a vanity workshop. If you do not want your poem seriously critiqued, do not post here. Constructive criticism only. PLEASE Only Post One Poem a Day!!!

How do I...?

Ask PoetrySoup Members how to do something or find something on PoetrySoup.

You have an ad blocker! We understand, but...

PoetrySoup is a small privately owned website. Our means of support comes from advertising revenue. We want to keep PoetrySoup alive, make it better, and keep it free. Please support us by disabling your ad blocker on PoetrySoup. See how to enable ads while keeping your ad blocker active. Also, did you know you can become a PoetrySoup Lifetime Premium Member and block ads forever...while getting many more great features. Take a look! Thank you!
Get Your Premium Membership

Psalm 107 last part

 Colonies planted; or, Nations blessed and punished.
A Psalm for New England.
When God, provoked with daring crimes, Scourges the madness of the times, He turns their fields to barren sand, And dries the rivers from the land.
His word can raise the springs again, And make the withered mountains green; Send showery blessings from the skies, And harvests in the desert rise.
[Where nothing dwelt but beasts of prey, Or men as fierce and wild as they, He bids th' oppressed and poor repair, And builds them towns and cities there.
They sow the fields, and trees they plant, Whose yearly fruit supplies their want; Their race grows up from fruitful stocks, Their wealth increases with their flocks.
Thus they are blessed; but if they sin, He lets the heathen nations in; A savage crew invades their lands, Their princes die by barb'rous hands.
Their captive sons, exposed to scorn, Wander unpitied and forlorn; The country lies unfenced, untilled, And desolation spreads the field.
Yet if the humbled nation mourns, Again his dreadful hand he turns; Again he makes their cities thrive, And bids the dying churches live.
] The righteous, with a joyful sense, Admire the works of Providence; And tongues of atheists shall no more Blaspheme the God that saints adore.
How few with pious care record These wondrous dealings of the Lord! But wise observers still shall find The Lord is holy, just, and kind.

Poem by
Biography | Poems | Best Poems | Short Poems | Quotes | Email Poem - Psalm 107 last partEmail Poem | Create an image from this poem

Poems are below...

Top Isaac Watts Poems

Analysis and Comments on Psalm 107 last part

Provide your analysis, explanation, meaning, interpretation, and comments on the poem Psalm 107 last part here.