Psalm 65

Due Honours, Lord, on Thee attend,
Where Sions sacred Towers ascend:
There thy devoted Israelites
Shall pay their Vowes, with solemne Rites.
To Thee shall all Man-kinde repaire:
Since thou vouchsaf'st to heare our Prayer.
Our Sinnes thy Mercies expiate,
When burthen'd with their loathed waight.
Thrice happy he, of whom thou mak'st
Thy Choice; and to thy service tak'st;
That may within thy Courts reside;
There with thy Goodnesse satisfi'd;
And taste of that sincere Delight,
Which never cloyes the Appetite.
From thee, O God, our Safetie springs;
Thy Judgement threatens dreadfull things.
Their Hope, whom Soiles remote sustaine;
Who flote upon the toiling Maine.
Great is thy Power: propt by thy Hand,
Cloud-touching Mountaines stedfast stand.
Thou with thy Scepter dost appease
The roaring of the high-wrought Seas:
And the tumultuarie jarres
Of People breathing Blood and Warres.
Who dwell upon the Earth's Confines,
They tremble at thy fearefull Signes.
Where first the Sun his beame displaies;
And where he sets his golden Raies,
They triumph in the fruits of Peace;
Inriched by the Earth's increase.
He Raine upon her Bosome powres;
His swelling Clouds abound with Showres:
And so prepares the lusty Soile
To recompense the Reapers toile.
Mellowes the Glebe with fatning juyce,
Whose furrowes hopefull blades produce:
With Plenty crownes the smiling Yeares,
Shed from the influence of the Spheares:
The Desert with sweet Claver fils;
And richly shades the joyfull Hils.
Flocks cover all the higher Plaine:
The rancker Valleyes cloth'd with Graine.
These in Abundance solacing,
Without a tongue thy Praises sing.