Psalm LXV. Long Metre. A new Version

Thy praise, O God, in Zion waits; All flesh shall croud thy sacred gates, To offer sacrifice and pray'r, And pay their willing homage there.

What tho' iniquity prevail, And feeble flesh be prone to fail; Yet Lord, thy grace thou wilt display, And purge each hateful stain away.

Blest is the man approv'd by thee, And brought thy holy courts to see! Goodness, immense and unconfin'd, Shall largely feast his longing mind.

Great God, by thy Almighty hand, The everlasting mountains stand: And every storm, and ev'ry flood, Obey thy all commanding nod.

Thy light'nings, flashing thro' the skies, Fill the wide earth with sad surprise; But cheer'd by thy enliv'ning voice, Rising and setting suns rejoice.

From thy vast, inexhausted stores, The earth is blest with kindly show'rs; And savage wilds and desarts drear, Confess thee, Father of the year.

The flocks which graze the mountains brow; The corn which clothes the plains below, To ev'ry heart new transports bring, And hills and vales rejoice and sing.