Let us before his presence come For God, a great God and great King, Depths of the earth are in his hand, To him the spacious sea belongs, Its form at first did take. O come and let us worship him, PSALMODY OF THE FREE CHURCH OF PSALM XCVI. SING and let your song be new, Make each country know his worth: For Jehovah, great alone, Far above doth hold his throne. For but idols, what are they Whom besides mad earth adoreth? He the skies in frame did lay. Grace and honor are his guides; Majesty his temple storeth; Might in guard about him bides. Kindreds come! Jehovah give, Oh, give Jehovah, all together, Force and fame whereso you live. Give his name the glory fit: Take your offerings, get you thither, Where he doth enshrinèd sit. Go, adore him in the place Where his pomp is most displayed. Earth, oh, go with quaking pace, Go proclaim Jehovah king: Stayless world shall now be stayed; Righteous doom his rule shall bring. Starry roof and earthy floor, Sea, and all thy wideness yieldeth, Now rejoice, and leap, and roar. Leafy infants of the wood, Fields, and all that on you feedeth, Dance, oh, dance, at such a good! For Jehovah cometh, lo! Lo to reign Jehovah cometh! For the people's weal provide. SIR PHILIP SIDNEY (1554-1586), PSALM XCVII. THE Lord doth raigne, whereat ye earth, May joy with pleasant voyce: And eke the Iles with joyfull myrth, May triumph and rejoice. Both clouds and darkness eke do swell, Yea right and justice ever dwell, Yea fire and heate at once do runne, And go before his face: Which shall his foes and enemies burne, Ilis lightnings eke full bright did blaze, The hilles like waxe did melt in sight, That all the world may see and know, Confusion sure shall come to such, PSALM C. ALL people that on earth do dwell, Sing to the Lord with cheerful voice: Him serve with fear, his praise forth tell, Come ye before him and rejoice. The Lord, ye know, is God indeed; Without our aid he did us make: We are his flock, he doth us feed, And for his sheep he doth us take. Oh, enter, then, his gates with praise, Approach with joy his courts unto; Praise, laud, and bless his name always, For it is seemly so to do. For why? the Lord our God is good, PSALM CI. MERCY and judgment are my song; If I am raised to bear the sword Let wisdom all my actions guide, No sons of slander, rage and strife (I'll search the land, and raise the just, To posts of honour, wealth and trust; The men who work thy holy will, Shall be my friends and favorites still.) In vain shall sinners hope to rise, The impious crew, the factious band, Shall hide their heads, or quit the land; And all who break the public rest, Where I have power, shall be suppressed. ISAAC WATTS (1674-1748). PSALM CII, VERSES 6 AND 7. IN eaves sole sparrowe sitts not more alone, Nor mourning pelican in desert wilde, Than sely I, that solitary mone, From highest hopes to hardest happ exil'd: Sometyme, O blissfull tyme! was Vertue's meede Ayme to my thoughtes, guide to my word and deede. But feares are now my pheares*, greife my delight, My teares my drinke, my famisht thoughtes my bedd; Day full of dumpes, nurse of unrest the nighte, My garments gives, a bloody feilde my bedde, My sleape is rather death than deathe's allye, Yet kill'd with murd'ring pangues I cannot dye. ROBERT SOUTHWELL (1562-1595). PSALM CIII. THE DIVINE LOVE UNCHANGE- O MY Soul, with all thy powers, Bless the Lord, his praise proclaim! As the heaven the earth transcends, Over us His care extends. He with loving-kindness crowned thee, Far as east and west are parted, He our sins hath severed thus; *Companions. Then hills and vales did not distinction know, But leveled nature lay oppressed below. With speed they, at thy awful thunder's roar, Shrinked within the limits of their shore. Through secret tracts they up the mountain creep, And rocky caverns fruitful moisture weep, Which sweetly through the verdant vales doth glide, Till 'tis devoured by the greedy tide. The feeble sands thou'st made the ocean's mounds, Its foaming waves shall ne'er repass these bounds, Again to triumph over the dry grounds. Between the hills grazed by the bleating kind, Soft warbling rills their mazy way do find; By him appointed fully to supply, When the hot dogstar fires the realms on high, The raging thirst of every sickening beast, Of the wild ass that roams the dreary waste: The feathered nation, by their smiling sides, In lowly brambles, or in trees abides; By nature taught, on them they rear their nests, That with inimitable art are dressed. They for the shade and safety of the wood With natural music cheer the neighborhood. He doth the clouds with genial moisture fill, Which on the shriveled ground they bounteous distill. And nature's lap with various blessings crowd: The giver, God! all creatures crv aloud. With freshest green he clothes the fragrant mead, Whereon the grazing herds wanton and feed. With vital juice he makes the plants abound, And herbs securely spring above the ground, |