Thou who art enthroned above,
Thou by whom we live and move,
O how sweet, how excellent
Is't with tongue and heart's consent,
Thankful hearts and joyful tongues,
To renown thy name in songs!
When the morning paints the skies,
When the sparkling stars arise,
Thy high favours to rehearse,
Thy firm faith, in grateful verse!
Take the lute and violin,
Let the solemn harp begin,
Instruments strung with ten strings,
While the silver cymbal rings.
From thy works my joy proceeds;
How I triumph in thy deeds!
Who thy wonders can express?
All thy thoughts are fathomless--
Hid from men in knowledge blind,
Hid from fools to vice inclined.
Who that tyrant sin obey,
Though they spring like flowers in May--
Parched with heat, and nipt with frost,
Soon shall fade, for ever lost.
Lord, thou art most great, most high;
Such from all eternity.
Perish shall thy enemies,
Rebels that against thee rise.
All who in their sins delight,
Shall be scattered by thy might
But thou shall exalt my horn
Like a youthful unicorn,
Fresh and fragrant odours shed
On thy crowned prophet's head.
I shall see my foes' defeat,
Shortly hear of their retreat;
But the just like palms shall flourish
Which the plains of Judah nourish,
Like tall cedars mounted on
Plants set in thy court, below
Spread their roots, and upwards grow;
Fruit in their old age shall bring,
Ever fat and flourishing.
This God's justice celebrates:
He, my rock, injustice hates.