Psalm 65

To the chief Musician, A Psalm and Song of David.

1        Praise waits for thee in Sion, Lord:

                   to thee vows paid shall be.

2        O thou that hearer art of pray'r,

                   all flesh shall come to thee.

3        Iniquities, I must confess,

                   prevail against me do:

          But as for our transgressions,

                   them purge away shalt thou.

4        Bless'd is the man whom thou dost chuse,

                   and mak'st approach to thee,

          That he within thy courts, O Lord,

                   may still a dweller be:

          We surely shall be satisfy'd

                   with thy abundant grace,

          And with the goodness of thy house,

                   ev'n of thy holy place.

5        O God of our salvation,

                   thou, in thy righteousness,

          By fearful works unto our pray'rs

                   thine answer dost express:

          Therefore the ends of all the earth,

                   and those afar that be

          Upon the sea, their confidence,

                   O Lord, will place in thee.

6        Who, being girt with pow'r, sets fast

                   by his great strength the hills.

7        Who noise of seas, noise of their waves,

                   and people's tumult, stills.

8        Those in the utmost parts that dwell

                   are at thy signs afraid:

          Th' outgoings of the morn and ev'n

                   by thee are joyful made.

9        The earth thou visit'st, wat'ring it;

                   thou mak'st it rich to grow

          With God's full flood; thou corn prepar'st,

                   when thou provid'st it so.

10      Her rigs thou wat'rest plenteously,

                   her furrows settelest:

          With show'rs thou dost her mollify,

                   her spring by thee is blest.

11      So thou the year most lib'rally

                   dost with thy goodness crown;

          And all thy paths abundantly

                   on us drop fatness down.

12      They drop upon the pastures wide,

                   that do in deserts lie;

          The little hills on ev'ry side

                   rejoice right pleasantly.

13      With flocks the pastures clothed be,

                   the vales with corn are clad;

          And now they shout and sing to thee,

                   for thou hast made them glad.