My soul the Lord for ever bless:
O God! thy greatness all confess;
Whom majesty and honour vest,
In robes of light eternal drest.
He heaven made his canopy;
His chambers in the waters lye:
His chariot is the cloudy storm,
And on the wings of wind is born.
He spirits makes his angels quire,
His ministers a flaming fire.
He so did earth's foundations cast,
It might remain for ever fast:
[95] Then cloath'd it with the spacious deep,
Whose wave out-swells the mountains steep.
At thy rebuke the waters fled,
And hid their thunder-frighted head.
They from the mountains streaming flow,
And down into the vallies go:
Then to their liquid center hast,
Where their collected floods are cast.
These in the ocean met, and joyn'd,
Thou hast within a bank confin'd:
Not suff'ring them to pass their bound,
Lest earth by their excess be drown'd.
He from the hills his chrystal springs
Down running to the vallies brings:
Which drink supply, and coolness yield,
To thirsting beasts throughout the field.
By them the fowls of heaven rest,
And singing in their branches nest.
He waters from his clouds the hills;
The teeming earth with plenty fills.
He grass for cattle doth produce,
And every herb for human use:
That so he may his creatures feed,
And from the earth supply their need.
He makes the clusters of the vine,
To glad the sons of men with wine.
He oil to clear the face imparts,
And bread, the strength'ner of their hearts.