Psalm 92

Thou, who art inthron'd above;
Thou, by whom we live, and move;
O how sweet, how excellent,
Is't with tongue and hearts consent,
Thankefull hearts and joyfull tongues,
To renowne thy Name in Songs!
When the Morning paints the Skies,
When the sparkling Starres arise;
Thy high favours to rehearse,
Thy firme faith, in gratefull Verse,
Take the Lute, and Violin;
Let the solemne Harpe begin;
Instruments strung with ten strings;
While the Silver Cimbal rings.
From thy Workes my joy proceeds:
How I triumph in thy Deeds!
Who thy Wonders can expresse!
All thy Thoughts are fathomlesse;
Hid from Men in Knowledge blinde;
Hid from Fooles to Vice inclin'd.
Who that Tyrant Sin obey;
Though they spring like Flowers in May
Parch't with Heat, and nipt with Frost,
Soone shall fade, for ever lost.
Lord, thou art most Great, most High;
Such from all Eternitie.
Perish shall thy Enemies,
Rebels that against thee rise.
All, who in their Sins delight,
Shall be scatter'd by thy Might.
But thou shalt exalt my Horne,
Like a youthfull Vnicorn;
Fresh and fragrant Odors shed
On thy crowned Prophets head.
I shall see my Foes defeat,
Shortly heare of their retreat:
But the Just like Palmes shall flourish,
Which the Plains of Judah nourish:
Like tall Cedars mounted on
Cloud ascending Lebanon.
Plants set in thy Court, below
Spread their roots, and upwards grow;
Fruit in their Old-age shall bring;
Ever fat and flourishing.
This Gods Justice celebrates;
He, my Rocke, Injustice hates.