1 My heart good matter boileth forth;
My words I utter then,
Concert the king, my tongue is like
A ready writer's pen.
2 Thou fairer art than sons of men,
Grace poured is in store
Upon thy lips; God therefore hath
Thee built for evermore.
3 Thy wasting sword, o mighty one,
Gird thou upon thy thigh:
Thy glorious magnificence,
And comely majesty.
4 Ride forth upon the word of truth,
meekness and righteousness;
And thy right hand shall lead thee forth
In works of dreadfulness.
5 Then arrows sharp: the people they
Shall fall down under thee;
Yea, in the heart (they shall fall down)
Foes to the king that be
6 Thy throne's O God, for ev'r and aye,
The scepter of thy state
A scepter is of righteousness.
7 Thou wickedness dost hate.
And lovest justice: God therefore
Thy God hath ointed thee.
With oyl of gladness them above
That thy companions be.
8 Myrrh, aloes, and cassia's smell
All of thy garments had:
Out of the ivory palaces,
Whereby they made thee glad.
9 Among thy honourable maids
King's daughters present stand,
The queen in finest Ophir gold
Is set at thy right hand.
10 O daughter, hearken and behold,
Do thou incline thine ear:
See thine own people thou forget,
And father's house most dear.
11 So in thy beauty to delight
The king he shall accord.
And bowing down, him worship thou
Because he is thy Lord.
12 Then shall be present with a gift
The daughter there of Tyre:
The rich among the people they
Thy favour shall desire.
13 The daughter of the king she is
All glorious within:
And with embroideries of gold
Her garments wrought have been.
14 She is led in unto the king
In robes with needle wrought:
Her fellow virgins following her
Shall unto thee be brought.
15 With gladness forth they shall be bro't,
Also with joyfulness:
So to the palace of the king
They entring have access.
16 In their stead who thy fathers were
Thy children they shall be:
Whom thou may'st place in all the earth
In princely dignity.
17 Thy name remembred I will make
In generations all:
Therefore for ever and for aye
The people praise thee shall.
|First Line:||My heart good matter boileth forth|
|Title:||To the chief Musician upon Sushannim for the Sons of Korah, Maschil, a Song of Loves|