A translation of the psalms of David :: :: University of Virginia Library

Bless thou the Lord, my soul—how great,
O Lord, what a stupendous weight
Of honours crown thy name;
Thou'rt cloath'd with majesty and might,
And glories how exceeding bright
Come clust'ring on thy fame!

With light, which thou hast purer made,
As with a robe thou art array'd,
Whose pow'r the world upholds;
And hang'st the skies in beauteous blue,
Wav'd like a curtain to the view,
Down heav'n's high dome in folds.

His chamber-beams in floods he shrouds,
His chariots are the rolling clouds
Upon th'etherial arch;
And on the rapid winds their wings
Majestical, the king of kings
Walks in his awful march.

The guardian spirits know their post,
His heralds are th'angelic host
Obedient to his will;
The delegated lightnings fly,
And flames are sent on embassy
His mandates to fulfill.

Fair and full-finished at her birth,
Firm at the first he fixt the earth,
And wrought her bases fast;
Her deep foundations has he girt,
That as the lively springs exert,
Her state of rest might last.

Upon the surface deep and wide
Thou pouredst out the flowing tide,
Like some loose garment spread;
The rising waters stood around,
And swoln above the level ground,
O'ertop the mountain's head.

But at the thunder of thy word
Their inundations were deterr'd,
And thy rebuke obey'd;
And to the centre from the top,
Th'unfathom'd ocean to a drop
Was pacify'd and laid.

Then up into the hills they go,
And down upon the vales below
Again their way they find;
Till at such places they abide,
And in those due directions glide
Thy wisdom has assign'd.

Thou over-rul'st the liquid mass,
And in the bounds they may not pass
Thou shalt their floods restrain;
The way that is prescrib'd they learn
For ever, nor shall they return
To cover earth again.

The living springs at his command
Are sent a succour to the land,
For rivers the resource;
Which as by stooping woods they curve
'Mongst intermingl'd hills preserve
Their interrupted course.

All beasts that haunt the distant groves,
Frequent the lucid stream in droves,
As need and nature rule,
And asses of the wild, assuage
Their thirst, and the meridian age
Of sultry sun-beams cool.

Near them thro' blossoms bursting ripe
The birds upon the perches pipe,
As boughs the herbage shield;
And while each other they salute,
The trees from every quiv'ring shoot,
Melodious musick yield.

He from his chambers dew distills,
And waters with his rain the hills
Where'er their summits soar;
The vales, with sweet luxuriance clad,
Make all the face of nature glad
With never-failing store.

He laid the verdant turf to graze,
That earth the due supplies might raise
Of annual food and wealth;
And fragrant herbs and flow'rs profuse
The seasons on the field produce
For pleasure and for health.

101

He planted on the rock the vine,
To glad the heart of man with wine,
And crown the thankful bowl;
And to exhilarate the face,
He gave the cruise, and broke in grace
His bread sustains the soul.

The trees with precious balsam sweat,
Which GRACE in seemly rows has set
By her almighty pow'r;
And Lebanon, which God perfumes,
His crest with stately cedar plumes,
Whose tufted tops embow'r.

The feather'd families of air
Contrive their cunning fabricks there,
What time the sexes mix;
The storks for elevation seek
To loftier firs with bolder beak
Their pensile house to fix.

The kid that brouses on the thyme,
Looks from the precipice sublime,
And every peril braves;
The skulking connies dwell secure,
And for defence their young immure
In quarries and in caves.

He taught the silver moon her way,
Her monthly and nocturnal sway,
Where'er she wanes or grows;
The glorious globe that gilds the skies
Is conscious of his early rise,
And his descent he knows.

The lines of light and shade to mark
Is thine, thou bidst the night be dark,
Beneath whose solemn gloom
The forest-beasts forsake their den,
And all that shun the walks of men,
Their wonted haunts resume.

The lions rouse to fill the scene,
With eyes of baleful lightning keen
Upon the desart rude;
And as in surly-sounding tone
They make the hollow caverns groan,
From God require their food.

But at the glancing of the dawn,
Ere yet the sun-beams o'er the lawn
The burnish'd orb unveil;
Alarm'd they flee their nightly round,
And in their place with peace profound
Their weary'd limbs regale.

While man, frail nature to sustain,
Awakes to labour and to pain,
Till from the wish'd-for west
Th'approaches of the dusky eve
Give to his toil a short reprieve,
And send him home to rest.

How manifold thy works are made,
O Lord—by thankful man survey'd,
What an exhaustless theme!
In wisdom didst thou all dispense,
How with thy vast munificence
Heav'n, earth, air, all things teem!

So does the sea, whose shelvy rocks
And depths with numberless he stocks
From life's eternal fount;
Some in the nether crannies skulk,
And some of huge enormous bulk
The swelling floods surmount.

There go the ships from shore to shore,
Of distant climes the diff'rent store
To take and to discharge;
There that Leviathan resorts,
Which at thy blessed bidding sports
At leisure and at large.

All these upon thy love depend,
And on thy providence attend
Their daily wants to urge;
And as the stated hour revolves,
The bread is broke, the dew dissolves
Upon the rising surge.

They gather that which is diffus'd,
Nor ought is wasted or abus'd,
So has thy wisdom will'd;
Thy bounteous hand prepares a feast,
And all from greatest to the least
Thou fillest, and they're fill'd.

102

Thou hid'st thy face—however brief
Thy absence, it is instant grief
Of infinite degree;
'Tis thine to give, and to withdraw
Their breath, and by a stablish'd law
They are, or cease to be.

But by succession they survive,
And sense and pow'r to move derive,
As from thy spirit sent;
Anew their moulded dust is warm'd—
Ev'n earth herself by thee reform'd,
Shall other scenes present.

The glorious majesty and love
Of God shall have no bounds, above
All mortal change and chance;
The Lord shall heav'ns whole choir employ
In anthems of exceeding joy
To see his works advance.

Abash'd at his tremendous look,
The earth with strong commotions shook,
Which all her awe bespoke;
He touch'd the hills, their summits nod,
And at the weighty hand of God
They totter, and they smoke.

That goodness which these years prolongs,
Shall give new spirit to my songs
As measure to my span;
While I my life and limbs possess,
The bounteous author will I bless
With all the might of man.

As in the spirit I repeat
His praise, my musings shall be sweet,
To just refinement wrought;
Yea, while I yet suppress my voice,
To thee, O Lord, will I rejoice
In melody of thought.

The men, by carnal sins entic'd,
Must fall before the rod of Christ,
Confounded and amaz'd;—
Praise thou the Lord, my soul apart—
Praise ye, who hear with voice and heart—
The Lord our God be prais'd.