Psalm 47
47
XLVII Psalm.
1Buailidhe bhar mbasa uile shlóigh,
Ta ’gaitreabh ann sgach ait;
Le guth ’s le gárdeachas do Dhia,
Suas toguidhe iolach árd.
2Óir Dia ro ard is uamhunn é,
Righ mor ós cionn gach tír;
3An pobul cuiridh se fo’r smacht,
Fo’r ccois na slóigh go léir.
4Oighreacht Iacoib thogh se dhuinn,
Oighreacht dá ttug se grádh;
5Chuaidh Dia le caithréim ard suas,
Le stoc a’s fuaimneach blá.
6Seinnidhe do Dhia, sinn moladh, sinn,
Dar righ sinn moladh binn;
7Oir is righ mór os cionn gach tír,
Seinn do go heólgach grinn.
8Tha Dia na shuidhe na chathaoir naoimh,
’Se is righ air chinnibh ann;
9Uachdráinn na sluagh do chruinnigh iad,
Pobal Dé Abrahaim.
Air son gur le Iehobhah ’mháin,
Sgiath dhidin do gach tír;
’Se féin is airde is uirumuigh,
’S dho dlighthear moladh síor.
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Psalm 47: PSA1836
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A Londain: ar na chur na gclo re Richard Watts, 1836
