1 Praise ye the Lord, for it
Is good praises to sing
To our God, for its sweet:
Praise is a comely thing.
2 Tie Lord doth rear
Jerusalem: And gathers them
That outcafss were,

3 The broke in heart he heals,
And up their wounds doth bind.
4 The stars by number tells,
He calls them all by kind:
5 Our Lord great is
And of great might: Yea infinite
His knowledge is.

6 The Lord doth raise the low,
To ground the vile doth fling.
7 Sing thanks the Lord unto,
On harp our God's praise sing.
8 Who clouds the skies;
Rains th' earth upon, and mountains on
Makes grass to rise.

9 Beasts he and ravens young,
When as they cry feeds them:
10 Joys not in horses strong,
Nor in the legs of men.
11 The Lord doth place
His pleasure where, Men do him fear,
And hope on's grace,

12 The Lord Jerusalem praise,
Sion thy God confess.
13 For thy gates bars he stays;
In thee thy sons doth bless.
14 Peace maketh he
In borders thine: With wheat so fine
He filleth thee.

15 On earth sends his decree,
His word doth swiftly pass.
16 Gives snow like wool; and he
Hoar-frost spreads ashes as.
17 His ice doth send
Like morsels too; 'Fore his cold who
Can steady stand?

18 His word sends, and them thaws;
Makes wind blow, water flows.
19 Jacob his word, his laws
And Judgments Isra'l shows.
20 He hath so done
No Nation to: And judgments so
They have not known