Psalm 145

I Still will of thy Glorie sing;
Thy Name extoll, my God, my King.
No day shall passe without thy praise;
Prais'd while the Sunne his Beames displayes.
Great is the Lord, whose praise exceeds:
Inscrutable are all his Deeds.
One Age shall to another tell
Thy Workes, which so in power excell.
The Beautie of thy Excellence,
And Oracles intrance my Senfe.
Men shall thy dreadfull Acts relate;
My Verse thy Greatnes celebrate;
To memory thy Favours bring,
And of thy noble Iustice sing.
For in Thee Grace and Pitie live;
To anger slow, swift to forgive.
All on thy Goodnesse, Lord, depend:
Thy Mercies all thy Workes transcend;
Even all thy Workes shall praise thy Name;
Thy Saints shall celebrate the same:
Of thy farre-spreading Empire speake;
Thy Power, to which all Powers are weake;
To make thy Acts to Mortals knowne,
And glory of thy awefull Throne.
Thy Kingdome never shall have end:
Thy Rule beyond Times flight extend.
The Lord shall those, who fall, sustaine;
And Soules dejected raise againe.
All seeke from Thee their livelyhood;
Thou in due season giv'st them food:
Thy liberall Hand, Men, Birds, and Beasts,
Even all that live, with plenty feasts.
The Lord is Just in all his Waies,
Who Mercie in his Workes displaies;
Is present by his power with all,
Who on his Name sincerely call:
For he will their desires effect;
Regard their cries; from Foes protect.
Who love Him, Safetie shall enjoy:
The Lord the Wicked will destroy,
My Tongue his Goodnesse shall proclame.
Man-kinde, for ever praise his Name.