Psalm 147

Iehovah praise with one consent.
How comely! sweet! how excellent,
To sing our great Creators praise!
Whose hands late ruin'd Salem raise,
Collecting scattered Israel,
That they in their owne Townes may dwell:
He cures the sorrowes of our minds;
Our wounds imbalmes, and softly binds.
He numbers Heavens bright-sparkling Flames,
And calls them by their severall Names.
Great is our God, and great in might;
His knowledge O most infinite!
The Humble unto Thrones erects;
The Insolent to Earth dejects.
Present your thanks to our great King;
On solemne Harps his Praises sing;
Who Heaven with gloomy Vapors hides,
And timely Raine for Earth provides.
With grasse he cloths the pregnant Hils,
And hungry beasts with Herbage fils.
He feeds the Ravens croaking brood,
(Left by the Old) that cry for food.
He cares not for the strength of Horse,
Nor mans strong limbs, and matchlesse force:
But those affects, who in his Path
Their feet direct with constant Faith.
O Solyma, Jehovah praise;
To God thy Voice, O Sion, raise:
Who hath thy City fortify'd;
Thy streets with Citizens supply'd:
Firme peace in all thy borders set,
And fed thee with the flowre of Wheat.
He sends forth his Commands, which flie
More swift then Lightning through the Skie:
The Snow-like Wooll on Mountains spreads;
And hoary Frosts like Ashes sheds;
While solid Flouds their course refraine,
What Mortall can his cold sustain?
At this Command, by Wind and Sun
Dissolv'd, th'unfetter'd Rivers run.
His Lawes to Jacob he hath showne;
His Judgements are to Israel knowne.
Not so with other Nations deales,
From whom his Statutes he conceales.