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| 147. | Psalm 147 Laudate Dominum |
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 | The psalms |  |
307
Psalm 147 Laudate Dominum
Sing to the Lord, for what can better be,
Then of our God that we the honor sing?
With seemly pleasure what can more agree,
Then praisefull voice, and touch of tuned string?
For lo, the Lord againe to forme doth bring
Jerusalems long ruinated walls:
And Jacobs house, which all the earth did see
Dispersed erst, to union now recalls.
And now by him their broken hearts made sound,
And now by him their bleeding wounds are bound.
Then of our God that we the honor sing?
With seemly pleasure what can more agree,
Then praisefull voice, and touch of tuned string?
For lo, the Lord againe to forme doth bring
Jerusalems long ruinated walls:
And Jacobs house, which all the earth did see
Dispersed erst, to union now recalls.
And now by him their broken hearts made sound,
And now by him their bleeding wounds are bound.
For what could not, who can the number tell
Of starrs, the torches of his heav'nly hall?
And tell so readily, he knoweth well
How ev'ry starre by proper name to call.
What greate to him, whose greatnes doth not fall
Within precincts? whose powre no lymits stay?
Whose knowledges all number soe excell,
Not numbring number can their number lay?
Easy to him to lift the lowly just;
Easy to down proud wicked to the dust.
Of starrs, the torches of his heav'nly hall?
And tell so readily, he knoweth well
How ev'ry starre by proper name to call.
What greate to him, whose greatnes doth not fall
Within precincts? whose powre no lymits stay?
Whose knowledges all number soe excell,
Not numbring number can their number lay?
Easy to him to lift the lowly just;
Easy to down proud wicked to the dust.
O then Jehovas causefull honor sing,
His, whom our God we by his goodnes find:
O make harmonious mix of voice and string
To him, by whom the skies with cloudes are lin'd:
By whom the rayne from cloudes to dropp assign'd
Supples the clodds of sommer-scorched fields,
Fresheth the mountaines with such needefull spring,
Fuell of life to mountaine cattaile yeeldes,
From whom young ravens careles old forsake,
Croaking to him of Almes, their diett take.
His, whom our God we by his goodnes find:
O make harmonious mix of voice and string
To him, by whom the skies with cloudes are lin'd:
By whom the rayne from cloudes to dropp assign'd
Supples the clodds of sommer-scorched fields,
Fresheth the mountaines with such needefull spring,
Fuell of life to mountaine cattaile yeeldes,
From whom young ravens careles old forsake,
Croaking to him of Almes, their diett take.
308
The stately shape, the force of bravest steed
Is farre too weake to work in him delight:
No more in him can any pleasure breed
In flying footman, foote of nimblest flight.
Nay, which is more, his fearers in his sight
Can well of nothing but his bounty brave;
Which never failing, never letts them neede,
Who fixt their hopes upon his mercies have.
O then Jerusalem, Jehova praise,
With honor due thy God, O Sion, raise.
Is farre too weake to work in him delight:
No more in him can any pleasure breed
In flying footman, foote of nimblest flight.
Nay, which is more, his fearers in his sight
Can well of nothing but his bounty brave;
Which never failing, never letts them neede,
Who fixt their hopes upon his mercies have.
O then Jerusalem, Jehova praise,
With honor due thy God, O Sion, raise.
His strength it is thy gates doth surely barre:
His grace in thee thy children multiplies:
By him thy borders ly secure from warre:
And finest flowre thy hunger satisfies.
Nor meanes he needes: for fast his pleasure flies,
Borne by his word, when ought him list to bid.
Snowes woolly locks by him wide scatt'red are,
And hoary plaines with frost, as asshes, hid;
Gross icy gobbetts from his hand he flings,
And blowes a cold too strong for strongest things.
His grace in thee thy children multiplies:
By him thy borders ly secure from warre:
And finest flowre thy hunger satisfies.
Nor meanes he needes: for fast his pleasure flies,
Borne by his word, when ought him list to bid.
Snowes woolly locks by him wide scatt'red are,
And hoary plaines with frost, as asshes, hid;
Gross icy gobbetts from his hand he flings,
And blowes a cold too strong for strongest things.
He bidds again and yce in water flowes,
As water erst in yce congealed lay:
Abroad the southern wind, his melter, goes,
The streames relenting take their wonted way;
O much is this, but more I come to say,
The wordes of life he hath to Jacob tolde:
Taught Israell, who by his teaching knowes
What lawes in life, what rules he wills to hold.
No Nation els hath found him half soe kind,
For to his light, what other is not blynd?
As water erst in yce congealed lay:
Abroad the southern wind, his melter, goes,
The streames relenting take their wonted way;
O much is this, but more I come to say,
The wordes of life he hath to Jacob tolde:
Taught Israell, who by his teaching knowes
What lawes in life, what rules he wills to hold.
No Nation els hath found him half soe kind,
For to his light, what other is not blynd?
| The psalms | |