(To the choir-master. A psalm. Of David. A song.)

O God, thou shalt yet have praise in Sion; to thee let the vow be paid,

hearer of prayer. To thee all mankind must look for pardon,

weighed down by its sinfulness till thou dost forgive.

Blessed the man on whom thy choice falls, whom thou takest to dwell with thee in thy own domain! Fill these hearts with love of thy house, with awe of thy holy temple.

Wonderful the miracles thou shewest when in mercy thou dost hear us, O God our Saviour; at the bounds of earth, far over the seas, in thee we hope.

What power girds thee about! In thy strength the mountains stand firm;

thou dost calm the raging of the sea, raging sea-billows, ay, and the turmoil of angry nations.

Thy portents strike terror at the world’s end, fill the lands of sunrise and sunset with rejoicing.

And now thou hast brought relief to this land of ours, hast watered and greatly enriched it; deep flows the channel whence thy divine providence grants us food; long time thou dost prepare it,

watering the furrow, loosening the clods, multiplying, with soft showers, the grain.

Thy bounty it is that crowns the year; where thy feet have passed, the stream of plenty flows;

flows through the desert pastures, till all the hill-sides are gaily clad,

herds throng the fields, and the valleys stand deep in corn; the shout of joy everywhere, everywhere the hymn of praise.