1. CHOOSING A THRONE OF FLAMES

Why do the heathen rage
The people imagine a vain thing?
The kings of the earth set themselves
And the rulers take counsel together
Against the Lord
And against His anointed
Saying, Let us break their bands
In His sore displeasure

Yet have I set my king
Upon my holy hill of Zion
I will declare the decree:
The Lord hath said unto me
Thou art my Son
This day have I begotten thee

Ask of me
And I shall give thee

The heathen for thine inheritance
And the uttermost parts of the earth for thy possession
Thou shalt break them with a rod of iron
Thou shalt dash them in pieces like a potter's vessel
Be wise now therefore
O ye kings: be instructed, ye judges of the earth
Serve the Lord with fear and rejoice with trembling
Kiss the Son
Let He be angry
And ye perish from the way
When His wrath is kindled but a little
Blessed are all they that put their trust in Him