¹Praise ye the Lord; for it is good

praise to our God to sing:

For it is pleasant, and to praise

it is a comely thing.

²God doth build up Jerusalem;

and he it is alone

That the dispers'd of Israel

doth gather into one.

³Those that are broken in their heart,

and grieved in their minds,

He healeth, and their painful wounds

he tenderly up-binds.

⁴He counts the number of the stars;

he names them ev'ry one.

⁵Great is our Lord, and of great pow'r;

his wisdom search can none.

⁶The Lord lifts up the meek; and casts

the wicked to the ground.

⁷Sing to the Lord, and give him thanks;

on harp his praises sound;

⁸Who covereth the heav'n with clouds,

who for the earth below

Prepareth rain, who maketh grass

upon the mountains grow.

⁹He gives the beast his food, he feeds

the ravens young that cry.

¹⁰His pleasure not in horses' strength,

nor in man's legs, doth lie.

¹¹But in all those that do him fear

the Lord doth pleasure take;

In those that to his mercy do

by hope themselves betake.

¹²The Lord praise, O Jerusalem;

Sion, thy God confess:

¹³For thy gates' bars he maketh strong;

thy sons in thee doth bless.

¹⁴He in thy borders maketh peace;

with fine wheat filleth thee.

¹⁵He sends forth his command on earth,

his word runs speedily.

¹⁶Hoar-frost, like ashes, scatt'reth he;

like wool he snow doth give:

¹⁷Like morsels casteth forth his ice;

who in its cold can live?

¹⁸He sendeth forth his mighty word,

and melteth them again;

His wind he makes to blow, and then

the waters flow amain.

¹⁹The doctrine of his holy word

to Jacob he doth show;

His statutes and his judgments he

gives Israel to know.

²⁰To any nation never he

such favour did afford;

For they his judgments have not known.

O do ye praise the Lord.