Psalm 113

YEe servants of the Lord,
With praise, Gods Name, adore;
The Name of God the Lord,
Blesse, now & evermore.
Oh sing his praise!
Through ev'ry place, which in his race,
The Sunn, survaies.

All nations, fear his powres,
His glory mounts the sky.
There is no God like ours:
No other Lord, so high.
Yet, he doth bowe,
All things to see, that in heavn be▪
Or Earth belowe.

The pore, from ground he fetts,
From dyrt, the meek, he brings;
And, them with kings he setts,
Ev'n with his peoples kings.
And, her that had
A barren wombe; he, made become
A mother glad.

Another of the same.
PRaise yee the Lord, & blesse his Name;
Yea, now & ever blesse the same,
Yee servants, of the Lord our God.
For, from the Sunns ascending place,
Ev'n to the vtmost of his race,
His Name's due praise, is fam'd abrode.
Or'e Nations all, yea, or'e the Sphears,
The Lord our God, his glory rears,
And, never was his equall found.
For, though his dwelling he on high,
He doth beholde with humbled eye,
All things in heav'n, & on the ground.

The pore, from dust & mire he brings,
To sit with Princes, & with Kings;
Ev'n of his people to be King.
And, he, a joyfull mother made
Of her, that erst no children had.
Vnto the Lord, oh therefor sing.
To God the Father, To the Sonn,
And holy-Ghost, (those, three in one
And, that eternall One in three)
All glory bee, for ever more;
All powre & praise, as heretofore,
Ascribed, now & ever be.