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| MY 1 soul, exalt the Lord with hymns of praise: | |
| O Lord my God, how boundless is thy might! | |
| Whose throne of state is cloath’d with glorious rays, | |
| And round about hast robed thyself with light; | |
| Who like a curtain hast the heavens displayed, | 5 |
| And in the watry roofs thy chambers laid; | |
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| Whose chariots are the thickned clouds above, | |
| Who walkst upon the winged winds below; | |
| At whose command the airy spirits move, | |
| And fiery meteors their obedience show; | 10 |
| Who on this base the earth didst firmly found, | |
| And mad’st the deep to circumvent it round. | |
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| The waves that rise would drown the highest hill, | |
| But at thy check they flie; and when they hear | |
| Thy thundering voice, they post to do thy will, | 15 |
| And bound their furies in their proper sphere; | |
| Where surging floods and valing ebbs can tell | |
| That none beyond thy marks must sink or swell. | |
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| Who hath dispos’d, but thou, the winding way | |
| Where springs down from their steepy crags do beat, | 20 |
| At which both fostered beasts their thirsts allay, | |
| And the wild asses come to quench their heat; | |
| Where birds resort, and, in their kind, thy praise | |
| Among the branches chant in warbling lays. | |
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| The mounts are watred from thy dwelling-place, | 25 |
| The barns and meads are fill’d for man and beast; | |
| Wine glads the heart, and oyl adorns the face, | |
| And bread the staff whereon our strength doth rest; | |
| Nor shrubs alone feel thy sufficing hand, | |
| But even the cedars that so proudly stand. | 30 |
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| So have the fowls their sundry seats to breed; | |
| The ranging stork in stately beeches dwells; | |
| The climbing goats on hills securely feed, | |
| The mining coneys shroud in rocky cells: | |
| Nor can the heavenly lights their course forget, | 35 |
| The moon her turns, or sun his times to set. | |
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| Thou mak’st the night to over-vail the day; | |
| Then savage beasts creep from the silent wood, | |
| Then lions’ whelps lie roaring for their prey, | |
| And at thy powerful hand demand their food; | 40 |
| Who when at morn they all recouch again, | |
| Then toyling man till eve pursues his pain. | |
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| O Lord, when on thy various works we look, | |
| How richly furnish’d is the earth we tread! | |
| Where in the fair contents of Nature’s book | 45 |
| We may the wonders of thy wisdom read: | |
| Nor earth alone, but lo! the sea so wide, | |
| Where, great and small, a world of creatures glide. | |
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| There go the ships, that furrow out their way; | |
| Yea, thereof whales enormous sights we see, | 50 |
| Which yet have scope among the rest to play; | |
| And all do wait for their support on thee; | |
| Who hast assigned each thing his proper food, | |
| And in due season dost dispense thy good. | |
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| They gather, when thy gifts thou dost divide; | 55 |
| Their stores abound, if thou thy hand enlarge; | |
| Confused they are, when thou thy beams dost hide; | |
| In dust resolved, if thou their breath discharge: | |
| Again, when thou of life renewst the seeds, | |
| The withered fields revest their cheerfull weeds. | 60 |
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| Be ever gloried here thy sovereign name, | |
| That thou mayst smile on all which thou hast made; | |
| Whose frown alone can shake this earthly frame, | |
| And at whose touch the hills in smoak shall vade: | |
| For me, may (while I breathe) both harp and voice | 65 |
| In sweet indictment of thy hymns rejoyce. | |
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| Let sinners fail, let all profaneness cease; | |
| His praise (my soul), his praise shall be thy peace. | |
