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From the Choirmaster’s collection. A song of David, for music.
65 ’Tis fitting to praise thee in Sion, O God;
in Jerusalem shall vows be paid to thee.
2 O thou who hearest prayer,
all men shall come to thee.
3 Though our sins be too much for us,
’tis thine to cancel our transgressions.
4 Happy is he whom thus thou choosest
to dwell in thy courts, close to thee.
Fain would we have our fill of this,
thy house, thy sacred shrine—its bliss.
5 God of our victory, answering our prayers
with deeds of dread, so loyally,
all ends of the earth come to rely on thee,
and distant shores,
6 thou by whose might the mountains are made firm
and strongly fixed,
7 by whom the roaring seas are stilled,
and the tumult of nations,
8 till dwellers at the world’s far end
are awed at the proofs of thy power,
and lands of sunrise and of sunset
sing joyfully of thee.
9 Thou art good to the earth, giving water
enriching her greatly with rain
from brimming streams divine;
thou provides the grain
by preparing her duly,
10 watering well her furrows,
soaking her ridges,
softening her with showers,
and blessing all her growth.
11 Thou art crowning the year with thy goodness,
rich stores drop where thou passest,
12 the very pastures of the downs o’erflow,
the hills wear girdles of joy,
13 the meadows are clothed with flocks,
the valleys covered with corn,
shouting and singing for joy.
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