Parallel
147
PSALM 147
Common Meter: 8,6,8,6
1Praise ye the Lord; for it is good
praise to our God to sing:
For it is pleasant, and to praise
it is a comely thing.
2God doth build up Jerusalem;
and he it is alone
That the dispers'd of Israel
doth gather into one.
3Those that are broken in their heart,
and grieved in their minds,
He healeth, and their painful wounds
he tenderly up-binds.
4He counts the number of the stars;
he names them ev'ry one.
5Great is our Lord, and of great pow'r;
his wisdom search can none.
6The Lord lifts up the meek; and casts
the wicked to the ground.
7Sing to the Lord, and give him thanks;
on harp his praises sound;
8Who covereth the heav'n with clouds,
who for the earth below
Prepareth rain, who maketh grass
upon the mountains grow.
9He gives the beast his food, he feeds
the ravens young that cry.
10His pleasure not in horses' strength,
nor in man's legs, doth lie.
11But in all those that do him fear
the Lord doth pleasure take;
In those that to his mercy do
by hope themselves betake.
12The Lord praise, O Jerusalem;
Sion, thy God confess:
13For thy gates' bars he maketh strong;
thy sons in thee doth bless.
14He in thy borders maketh peace;
with fine wheat filleth thee.
15He sends forth his command on earth,
his word runs speedily.
16Hoar-frost, like ashes, scatt'reth he;
like wool he snow doth give:
17Like morsels casteth forth his ice;
who in its cold can live?
18He sendeth forth his mighty word,
and melteth them again;
His wind he makes to blow,
and then the waters flow amain.
19The doctrine of his holy word
to Jacob he doth show;
His statutes and his judgments he
gives Israel to know.
20To any nation never he
such favour did afford;
For they his judgments have not known.
O do ye praise the Lord.