University of Virginia Library

Search this document 
A translation of the psalms of David

attempted in the Spirit of Christianity, and adapted to the divine service. By Christopher Smart

collapse section 
collapse section 
 I. 
 II. 
 III. 
 IV. 
 V. 
 VI. 
 VII. 
 VIII. 
 IX. 
 X. 
 XI. 
 XII. 
 XIII. 
 XIV. 
 XV. 
 XVI. 
 XVII. 
 XVIII. 
 XIX. 
 XX. 
 XXI. 
 XXII. 
 XXIII. 
  
 XXIV. 
 XXV. 
 XXVI. 
 XXVII. 
 XXVIII. 
 XXIX. 
 XXX. 
 XXXI. 
 XXXII. 
 XXXIII. 
 XXXIV. 
 XXXV. 
 XXXVI. 
 XXXVII. 
 XXXVIII. 
 XXXIX. 
 XL. 
 XLI. 
 XLII. 
 XLIII. 
 XLIV. 
 XLV. 
 XLVI. 
 XLVII. 
 XLVIII. 
 XLIX. 
 L. 
 LI. 
 LII. 
 LIII. 
 LIV. 
 LV. 
 LVI. 
 LVII. 
 LVIII. 
 LIX. 
 LX. 
 LXI. 
 LXII. 
 LXIII. 
 LXIV. 
 LXV. 
 LXVI. 
 LXVII. 
 LXVIII. 
 LXIX. 
 LXX. 
 LXXI. 
 LXXII. 
 LXXIII. 
 LXXIV. 
 LXXV. 
 LXXVI. 
 LXXVII. 
 LXXVIII. 
 LXXIX. 
 LXXX. 
 LXXXI. 
 LXXXII. 
 LXXXIII. 
 LXXXIV. 
  
 LXXXV. 
 LXXXVI. 
 LXXXVII. 
 LXXXVIII. 
 LXXXIX. 
 XC. 
 XCI. 
 XCII. 
PSALM XCII.
 XCIII. 
 XCIV. 
 XCV. 
 XCVI. 
 XCVII. 
 XCVIII. 
  
 XCIX. 
 C. 
  
 CI. 
 CII. 
 CIII. 
  
 CIV. 
 CV. 
 CVI. 
 CVII. 
 CVIII. 
 CIX. 
 CX. 
 CXI. 
 CXII. 
 CXIII. 
 CXIV. 
 CXV. 
 CXVI. 
 CXVII. 
  
 CXVIII. 
 CXIX. 
 CXX. 
 CXXI. 
 CXXII. 
 CXXIII. 
 CXXIV. 
 CXXV. 
 CXXVI. 
 CXXVII. 
 CXXVIII. 
 CXXIX. 
 CXXX. 
 CXXXI. 
 CXXXII. 
 CXXXIII. 
 CXXXIV. 
 CXXXV. 
 CXXXVI. 
 CXXXVII. 
 CXXXVIII. 
 CXXXIX. 
 CXL. 
 CXLI. 
 CXLII. 
 CXLIII. 
 CXLIV. 
 CXLV. 
 CXLVI. 
 CXLVII. 
 CXLVIII. 
  
 CXLIX. 
  
 CL. 
  
expand section 

PSALM XCII.

The work is good, which duty claims
To thee when praises are restor'd;
O Christ, of beings, and of names
Most highest, most ador'd!
To tell of thy stupendous grace
Before the rising morn betimes,
In pensive night thy truth to trace,
When thought itself sublimes;
Upon the decachord and lute,
Upon the musick loud and strong,
Grave tones accordant with acute,
Upon the harp and song.
With gladness, which thy works excite,
My soul springs upwards and expands;
And I will blazon with delight
The wonders of thy hands.
O Lord, how glorious is that love
Of strength such miracles to breathe;
Thy thoughts from infinite above,
To infinite beneath!
Here he, to whom there is no beam
Of heav'nly wisdom, is at fault;
And his low mind to such a theme
A fool cannot exalt.
Ev'n in their bloom and verdant years
The godless soon shall to the grave;
But endless love thro' Christ his tears
Shall true contrition save.
For lo! thy mischief-working foes
Shall not continue in their guile;
Which must with death's last summons close,
Nor more their souls defile.
But like an unicorn my crest
Shall flourish and exalted be;
With oil anointed, newly prest,
From God's redundant tree.
God grant it to my lifted eyes,
To see my foes to Christ repair;
My ears to hear their contrite sighs,
And penitential pray'r!
The righteous man shall upwards spring,
Like palms which have with winter strove,
And spread abroad each godly wing,
Like cedars of the grove.
Such as the Lord himself transplants
And places in his hallow'd courts;
Their fences of protection grants,
And by his word supports.
In age more plenteous they shall fruit,
And rise beyond the temple's wall;
And from the tree-top to the root
Be shapely stout and tall.
That they most clearly may submit,
The rectitude of God to view;
That all his ways and works are fit,
Are holy, just and true.