Classic Poem

Sing to the Lord, for what can better be
Than of our God that we the honour sing?
With seemly pleasure what can more agree
Than praiseful voice, and touch of tuned string?
For lo, the Lord again to form doth bring
Jerusalem's long ruinated walls;
And Jacob's house, which all the earth did see
Dispersed erst, to union now recalls;
And now by him their broken hearts made sound,
And now by him their bleeding wounds are bound.

For what could not, who can the number tell
Of stars, the torches of his heav'nly hall;
And tell so readily, he knoweth well
How ev'ry star by proper name to call?
What great to him, whose greatness doth not fall
Within precincts? whose power no limits stay?
Whose knowledges all number so excel,
Not numb'ring number can their number lay?
Easy to him, to lift the lowly just;
Easy, to down proud wicked to the dust.

O then Jehovah's causeful honour sing,
His, whom our God we by his goodness find!
O make harmonious mix of voice and string
To him by whom the skies with clouds are lin'd;
By whom the rain, from clouds to drop assign'd,
Supples the clods of summer-scorched fields,
Fresheth the mountains with such needful spring,
Fuel of life to mountain cattle yields,
From whom young ravens careless old forsake,
Croaking to him of alms, their diet take.

The stately shape, the force of bravest steed,
Is far too weak to work in him delight;
No more in him can any pleasure breed
In flying footman, foot of nimblest flight.
Nay, which is more, his fearers in his sight
Can well of nothing but his bounty brave;
Which, never failing, never lets them need
Who fix'd their hopes upon his mercies have.
O then, Jerusalem, Jehovah praise,
With honour due thy God, O Sion, raise.

His strength it is thy gates doth surely bar;
His grace in thee thy children multiplies;
By him thy borders lie secure from wars,
And finest flour thy hunger satisfies.
Nor means he needs; for fast his pleasure flies,
Borne by his word, when aught him list to bid.
Snow's woolly locks by him wide scatter'd are,
And hoary plains with frost, as ashes, hid;
Gross icy gobbets from his hand he flings,
And blows a cold too strong for strongest things.

He bids again, and ice in water flows,
As water erst in ice congealed lay;
Abroad the southern wind, his melter, goes;
The streams relenting take their wonted way.
O much is this, but more I come to say:
The words of life he hath to Jacob told;
Taught Israel, who by his teaching knows
What laws in life, what rules he wills to hold.
No nation else hath found him half so kind,
For to his light, what other is not blind?