The One Hundred and Forty-Seventh Psalm

O, PRAISE the Lord! praise his great name!
It is good of his praises to sing;
It is joyful to worship the Lord,
And own him our Saviour and King.

His outcasts he yet will redeem:
His pitying love has no bounds;
He healeth the broken in heart,
And gently he binds up their wounds.

He counteth the number of stars,
And calls every one by its name.
He is great — He only is great:
His infinite wisdom proclaim!

He lifts up the humble and meek;
The wicked he smites with his rod.
O, sing to the Lord with thanksgiving,
Sing praise on the harp to our God, —

Who gives every creature his food;
Who prepareth the rain for the earth;
Who covers the heavens with clouds;
Whose word gave the universe birth.

He delights not in beauty or strength;
But he who shall serve him with fear,
Who trusts in his mercy and love,
To the Father of mercies is dear.
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