My soul, praise the Lord, thou, Lord, mine own God

Representative Text

1 My soul, praise the Lord,
thou, Lord, mine own God,
art glorious, enrobed
in beauty and might;
2 the heavens, like a curtain,
thou spreadest abroad;
as raiment, around thee
enfoldest the light.

3 For chambers-beams sure,
dark waters he binds;
of clouds dim and deep
his chariot doth frame,
on stormy blasts riding,
on wings of all winds;
4 his angels are spirits,
his servants a flame.

5 Foundations secure
he laid for the globe,
that stable and firm
it ever should last;
6 the waste ocean gathering
o'er all as a robe:
o'er all the high mountains
the surging waves passed.

7 At thy dread rebuke
they flee and they fail;
thy thunder is heard,
they speed here and there;
8 they burst the ridge over,
they rush down the vale;
where thou hast appointed,
they haste to repair.

9 Thine own word hath set
their border and bound,
they roar and they toss,
but cannot pass o'er:
the word of Jehovah
a sure fence is found;
the flood o'er the mountains
returneth no more.

10 He unto the vales
the springs doth convey;
and onward they wind
their course through the hills;
11 whereat the wild asses
their thirst oft allay,
and beasts of the forest
thereof drink their fills.

12 By thee pleasant springs,
the fowls of the air
inhabit the trees,
the margin along;
and, as in their gladness
they move here and there
among the green branches,
praise God with their song.

13 His rain on the hills
he pours from on high,
with fruit of thy works
the earth is replete;
14 his grass to the cattle
he doth not deny,
and gives for man's service
the green herb as meat.

15 From earth, store of good
he brings for man's sake;
rich oil, gladsome wine,
heart-strengthening bread.
16 His trees full of moisture
the great God did make;
his cedars he planted
on Lebanon's head.

17 Secure in those shades
the bird builds her nest;
the firs to the stork
a house have supplied;
18 the hills are a refuge
for wild goats to rest;
the crags of the rough rocks
for conies to hide.

19 The moon he hath set
for seasons to run;
the times he ordained
her change ever shows;
and so, his course circling,
the glorious sun
his hour of descending
as constantly knows.

20 When darkness doth come
by thy will and power,
then prowl forth abroad
the beasts of the wood.
21 The lions rang roaring
their prey to devour;
and yet it is thou, Lord,
who givest them food.

22 As riseth the sun,
they all get them in;
withdrawn from his light,
to couch in their den;
23 but man forth proceedeth
his toil to begin;
till night come to call him
to take rest again.

24 How manifold, Lord,
the works of thy hand!
Surpassing our thoughts
their numbers are found!
Thy outspread creation
in wisdom is planned,
and full of thy riches
the wide world around.

23 So in the great sea
thy works are displayed,
where creeping things move,
unnumbered in sort;
26 and there the ships wander,
and there thou hast made
Leviathan, hugest
of monsters, to sport.

27 All these wait on thee
their food to receive;
that thou, in due time,
their portion may'st give:
18 and, when it doth pleasethee
their wants to relieve,
full gladly they gather
thy bounty and live.

Thou openest thine hand;
how full their supply!
29 Thou hidest thy face,
confounded they mourn:
when thou from them takest
their spirit, they die,
and to their dust, changing,
again they return.

30 Thou send'st forth thy breath,
and they are new made;
and earth, as at first,
looks vernal and bright.
31 In glory for ever
the Lord is arrayed,
and in his creation
our God will delight.

32 He looks on the earth,
it reels to and fro;
he touches the hills,
with smoke they are crowned.
33 Through life to Jehovah
mine anthems shall flow;
while yet I have being
his praise I will sound.

34 With dear thoughts of him
my heart shall run o'er;
with God all my joy
in treasure is stored.
35 The sinners are wasted;
earth sees them no more,
the rebels — where are they?
My soul, praise the Lord.

Source: The Irish Presbyterian Hymbook #P104c

Text Information

First Line: My soul, praise the Lord, thou, Lord, mine own God
Language: English
Copyright: Public Domain



William Croft (b. Nether Ettington, Warwickshire, England, 1678; d. Bath, Somerset, England, 1727) was a boy chorister in the Chapel Royal in London and then an organist at St. Anne's, Soho. Later he became organist, composer, and master of the children of the Chapel Royal, and eventually organist a…

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The Irish Presbyterian Hymbook #P104c

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