
Psalm 147
v.7-9,13-18
C. M.
The seasons of the year.
With songs and honors sounding loud,
Address the Lord on high;
Over the heav'ns he spreads his cloud,
And waters veil the sky.
He sends his showers of blessing down
To cheer the plains below;
He makes the grass the mountains crown,
And corn in valleys grow.
He gives the grazing ox his meat,
He hears the raven's cry;
But man, who tastes his finest wheat,
Should raise his honors high.
His steady counsels change the face
Of the declining year;
He bids the sun cut short his race,
And wintry days appear.
His hoary frost, his fleecy snow,
Descend and clothe the ground;
The liquid streams forbear to flow,
In icy fetters bound.
When from the dreadful stores on high
He pours the rattling hail,
The wretch that dares this God defy
Shall find his courage fail.
He sends his word, and melts the snow,
The fields no longer mourn;
He calls the warmer gales to blow,
And bids the spring return.
The changing wind, the flying cloud,
Obey his mighty word:
With songs and honors sounding loud,
Praise ye the sovereign Lord.
poem by Isaac Watts

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Psalm 147 part 2
Summer and winter.
A Song for Great Britain.
O Britain, praise thy mighty God,
And make his honors known abroad,
He bid the ocean round thee flow;
Not bars of brass could guard thee so.
Thy children are secure and blest;
Thy shores have peace, thy cities rest;
He feeds thy sons with finest wheat,
And adds his blessing to their meat.
Thy changing seasons he ordains,
Thine early and thy latter rains;
His flakes of snow like wool he sends,
And thus the springing corn defends.
With hoary frost he strews the ground;
His hail descends with clatt'ring sound:
Where is the man so vainly bold
That dares defy his dreadful cold?
He bids the southern breezes blow;
The ice dissolves, the waters flow:
But he hath nobler works and ways
To call the Britons to his praise.
To all the isle his laws are shown,
His gospel through the nation known;
He hath not thus revealed his word
To every land: praise ye the Lord.
poem by Isaac Watts

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Psalm 148
Proper Metre.
Praise to God from all creatures.
Ye tribes of Adam, join
With heav'n, and earth, and seas,
And offer notes divine
To your Creator's praise:
Ye holy throng
Of angels bright,
In worlds of light,
Begin the song.
Thou sun with dazzling rays,
And moon that rules the night,
Shine to your Maker's praise,
With stars of twinkling light:
His power declare,
Ye floods on high,
And clouds that fly
In empty air.
The shining worlds above
In glorious order stand,
Or in swift courses move,
By his supreme command:
He spake the word,
And all their frame
From nothing came,
To praise the Lord.
He moved their mighty wheels
In unknown ages past,
And each his word fulfils
While time and nature last:
In diff'rent ways
His works proclaim
His wondrous name,
And speak his praise.
PAUSE.
Let all the earth-born race,
And monsters of the deep
The fish that cleave the seas,
Or in their bosom sleep;
From sea and shore
Their tribute pay,
And still display
Their Maker's power.
Ye vapors, hail, and snow,
Praise ye th' almighty Lord,
And stormy winds that blow,
To execute his word:
When lightnings shine,
Or thunders roar,
Let earth adore
His hand divine.
Ye mountains near the skies,
With lofty cedars there,
And trees of humbler size,
That fruit in plenty bear;
Beasts wild and tame,
Birds, flies, and worms,
In various forms,
Exalt his name.
Ye kings and judges, fear
The Lord, the sovereign King;
And while you rule us here,
His heav'nly honors sing;
Nor let the dream
Of power and state
Make you forget
His power supreme.
Virgins and youths, engage
To sound his praise divine,
While infancy and age
Their feebler voices join:
Wide as he reigns
His name be sung
By every tongue
In endless strains.
Let all the nations fear
The God that rules above;
He brings his people near,
And makes them taste his love:
While earth and sky
Attempt his praise,
His saints shall raise
His honors high.
poem by Isaac Watts

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Psalm 29
Storm and thunder.
Give to the Lord, ye sons of fame,
Give to {he Lord renown and power,
Ascribe due honors to his name,
And his eternal might adore.
The Lord proclaims his power aloud
Over the ocean and the land;
His voice divides the wat'ry cloud,
And lightnings blaze at his command.
He speaks, and tempest, hail, and wind,
Lay the wide forest bare around:
The fearful hart and frighted hind
Leap at the terror of the sound.
To Lebanon he turns his voice,
And lo, the stately cedars break;
The mountains tremble at the noise,
The valleys roar, the deserts quake.
The Lord sits sovereign on the flood,
The Thund'rer reigns for ever king;
But makes his church his blest abode,
Where we his awful glories sing.
In gentler language there, the Lord
The counsels of his grace imparts;
Amidst the raging storm, his word
Speaks peace and courage to our hearts.
poem by Isaac Watts

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Paraphrase Of Psalm: CXLVIII
Praise ye the Lord. Praise ye the Lord from the heavens: praise him in the heights.
PRAISE ye the Lord! on every height
Songs to his glory raise!
Ye angel-hosts, ye stars of light,
Join in immortal praise!
Oh! heavens of heavens! let praise far-swelling
From all your orbs be sent!
Join in the strain, ye waters, dwelling
Above the firmament!
For His the word which gave you birth,
And majesty, and might;
Praise to the Highest from the earth,
And let the deeps unite!
Oh! fire and vapor, hail and snow,
Ye servants of His will!
Oh! stormy winds, that only blow
His mandates to fulfil;
Mountains and rocks, to heaven that rise;
Fair cedars of the wood;
Creatures of life, that wing the skies,
Or track the plains for food;
Judges of nations! kings, whose hand
Waves the proud sceptre high!
Oh! youths and virgins of the land,
Oh! age and infancy!
Praise ye His name, to whom alone
All homage should be given;
Whose glory, from th' eternal throne
Spreads wide o'er earth and heaven!
poem by Felicia Dorothea Hemans

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Psalm 8
God's sovereignty and goodness.
O Lord, our heav'nly King,
Thy name is all divine;
Thy glories round the earth are spread,
And o'er the heav'ns they shine.
When to thy works on high
I raise my wondering eyes,
And see the moon, complete in light,
Adorn the darksome skies
When I survey the stars,
And all their shining forms,
Lord, what is man, that worthless thing,
Akin to dust and worms?
Lord, what is worthless man,
That thou shouldst love him so?
Next to thine angels is he placed,
And lord of all below.
Thine honors crown his head,
While beasts, like slaves, obey;
And birds that cut the air with wings,
And fish that cleave the sea.
How rich thy bounties are!
And wondrous are thy ways
Of dust and worms thy power can frame
A monument of praise.
[Out of the mouths of babes
And sucklings thou canst draw
Surprising honors to thy name,
And strike the world with awe.
O Lord, our heav'nly King,
Thy name is all divine;
Thy glories round the earth are spread,
And o'er the heav'ns they shine.]
poem by Isaac Watts

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Psalms in Poetry - Chapter 103
Psalms in Poetry - Chapter 103
1 You praise the Lord, O soul of mine;
my being innermost,
His holy name, you praise.
2 You praise the Lord, O soul of mine,
forgetting not His benefits –
3 He who forgives your every sin,
and heals your diseases;
4 He who redeems your life from Pit,
and crowns you with His love and compassion,
5He satisfies your desires
With numerous things that are so good,
so that like eagle’s, your youth is renewed.
6 Lord works His righteousness, justice
for all those who are oppressed.
7 He made His ways to Moses known,
His deeds to people of Israel:
8 The Lord is compassionate, gracious,
and slow to anger, abounds in love.
9 He will not always one accuse,
nor will He harbor anger forever;
10 He does not treat us as our sins deserve,
repaying us as per our iniquities.
11 For as high as the heavens are above the earth,
so great is His love for those who fear Him;
12 As far, the east is from the west,
so far has He removed our transgressions.
13 Like father, on his own children,
the Lord has compassion on those
Who fear the Lord.
14 He knows how we are formed,
He remembers that we are dust.
15 To man, his days are just like grass;
like flow’r of field, he therefore lives;
16 Wind blows o’er flow’r and it is gone;
Its place remembers it no more.
17 Ev’rlasting to ev’rlasting then,
Lord's love is on those who fear Him;
His righteousness, with their children's children –
18 With those who keep His covenant,
and fail not doing His precepts.
19 The Lord has made His throne in heav’n;
His kingdom rules o’er everyone.
20 So, praise the Lord, His angels all;
you mighty ones who do His bids,
and who obey His every word.
21 So, praise the Lord, His heav’nly hosts;
His servants all who do His will.
22 So, praise the Lord and all His works,
in His dominion.
So praise the Lord, O soul of mine.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 9-13-2009
poem by John Celes

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Psalm 65 part 3
The blessings of the spring; or, God gives rain.
A Psalm for the husbandman.
Good is the Lord, the heav'nly King,
Who makes the earth his care;
Visits the pastures ev'ry spring,
And bids the grass appear.
The clouds, like rivers raised on high,
Pour out at thy command
Their wat'ry blessings from the sky,
To cheer the thirsty land.
The softened ridges of the field
Permit the corn to spring;
The valleys rich provision yield,
And the poor lab'rers sing.
The little hills, on every side,
Rejoice at falling showers;
The meadows, dressed in all their pride,
Perfume the air with flowers.
The barren clods, refreshed with rain,
Promise a joyful crop;
The parching grounds look green again,
And raise the reaper's hope.
The various months thy goodness crowns;
How bounteous are thy ways!
The bleating flocks spread o'er the downs,
And shepherds shout thy praise.
poem by Isaac Watts

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Psalm 148 Paraphrased
Universal praise to God.
Loud hallelujahs to the Lord,
From distant worlds where creatures dwell;
Let heav'n begin the solemn word,
And sound it dreadful down to hell.
The Lord, how absolute he reigns!
Let every angel bend the knee;
Sing of his love in heav'nly strains,
And speak how fierce his terrors be.
High on a throne his glories dwell,
An awful throne of shining bliss;
Fly through the world, O sun! and tell
How dark thy beams compared to his.
Awake, ye tempests, and his fame
In sounds of dreadful praise declare;
And the sweet whisper of his name
Fill every gentler breeze of air.
Let clouds, and winds, and waves agree
To join their praise with blazing fire;
Let the firm earth and rolling sea
In this eternal song conspire.
Ye flowery plains, proclaim his skill;
Valleys, lie low before his eye;
And let his praise from every hill
Rise tuneful to the neighb'ring sky.
Ye stubborn oaks, and stately pines,
Bend your high branches and adore:
Praise him, ye beasts, in diff'rent strains;
The lamb must bleat, the lion roar.
Birds, ye must make his praise your theme;
Nature demands a song from you;
While the dumb fish that cut the stream
Leap up, and mean his praises too.
Mortals, can you refrain your tongue,
When nature all around you sings?
O for a shout from old and young,
From humble swains and lofty kings!
Wide as his vast dominion lies
Make the Creator's name be known;
Loud as his thunder shout his praise,
And sound it lofty as his throne.
Jehovah! 'tis a glorious word:
O may it dwell on every tongue!
But saints, who best have known the Lord,
Are bound to raise the noblest song.
Speak of the wonders of that love
Which Gabriel plays on every chord:
From all below, and all above,
Loud hallelujahs to the Lord!
poem by Isaac Watts

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Psalm 98 part 1
Praise for the gospel.
To our Almighty Maker, God,
New honors be addressed;
His great salvation shines abroad,
And makes the nations blest.
He spake the word to Abraham first;
His truth fulfils the grace;
The Gentiles make his name their trust,
And learn his righteousness.
Let the whole earth his love proclaim
With all her diff'rent tongues,
And spread the honors of his name
In melody and songs.
poem by Isaac Watts

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Psalm 57
Praise for protection, grace, and truth.
My God, in whom are all the springs
Of boundless love, and grace unknown,
Hide me beneath thy spreading wings,
Till the dark cloud is overblown.
Up to the heav'ns I send my cry,
The Lord will my desires perform;
He sends his angel from the sky,
And saves me from the threat'ning storm.
Be thou exalted, O my God,
Above the heav'ns, where angels dwell;
Thy power on earth be known abroad,
And land to land thy wonders tell.
My heart is fixed; my song shall raise
Immortal honors to thy name;
Awake, my tongue, to sound his praise,
My tongue, the glory of my frame.
High o'er the earth his mercy reigns,
And reaches to the utmost sky;
His truth to endless years remains,
When lower worlds dissolve and die.
Be thou exalted, O my God,
Above the heav'ns, where angels dwell;
Thy power on earth be known abroad,
And land to land thy wonders tell.
poem by Isaac Watts

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Psalm 147 part 1
The Divine nature, providence, and grace.
Praise ye the Lord; 'tis good to raise
Our hearts and voices in his praise;
His nature and his works invite
To make this duty our delight.
The Lord builds up Jerusalem,
And gathers nations to his name;
His mercy melts the stubborn soul,
And makes the broken spirit whole.
He formed the stars, those heav'nly flames;
He counts their numbers, calls their names;
His wisdom's vast, and knows no bound,
A deep where all our thoughts are drowned.
Great is our Lord, and great his might;
And all his glories infinite:
He crowns the meek, rewards the just,
And treads the wicked to the dust.
PAUSE.
Sing to the Lord, exalt him high,
Who spreads his clouds all round the sky;
There he prepares the fruitful rain,
Nor lets the drops descend in vain.
He makes the grass the hills adorn,
And clothes the smiling fields with corn;
The beasts with food his hands supply,
And the young ravens when they cry.
What is the creature's skill or force,
The sprightly man, the warlike horse,
The nimble wit, the active limb?
All are too mean delights for him.
But saints are lovely in his sight,
He views his children with delight;
He sees their hope, he knows their fear,
And looks, and loves his image there.
poem by Isaac Watts

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Waiting For the Snow
Waiting for the Snow
When the leaves turn golden
And the geese fly south
Where will I be?
When the wind turns cold
And the bear is in hiding
Where will I be?
When the streams are frozen
And the rabbits’ color turning
Where will I be?
When the leaves begin to fall
And the northern cardinals stay
Where will I be?
When the nuts fall down
And squirrels store walnuts
Where will I be?
When the corn is harvested
And the deer seek shelter
Where will I be?
When the grass is brown
And the pheasants are flying
Where will I be?
I will be riding before the wind
And winging t’ward the sun
Flying from the snow
I will be waiting for spring
And sleeping till then
Hiding from the snow
I will be hiding till I’m white
And searching the ground for food
Waiting for the snow
I will be looking for berries
And singing merrily
Waiting for the snow
I will be saving acorns
And jumping form tree to tree
Waiting for the snow
I will be searching fields for corn
And hiding in thickets
Waiting for the snow
I will be hiding under grass
And calling out loud
Waiting for the snow

Psalm 100
A plain translation. Praise to our Creator.
Ye nations round the earth, rejoice
Before the Lord, your sovereign King;
Serve him with cheerful heart and voice,
With all your tongues his glory sing.
The Lord is God; 'tis he alone
Doth life, and breath, and being give;
We are his work, and not our own,
The sheep that on his pastures live.
Enter his gates with songs of joy,
With praises to his courts repair;
And make it your divine employ
To pay your thanks and honors there.
The Lord is good, the Lord is kind,
Great is his grace, his mercy sure;
And the whole race of man shall find
His truth from age to age endure.
poem by Isaac Watts

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Psalm 150
Praise the Lord of the morning
When the sun rises from its sleep
Praise the Lord for His excellent greatness
For His beauty makes me weep
Praise the Lord when the darkness falls
And the moon rises high above
Praise the Lord for His majestic glory
And His everlasting love
Praise the Lord in the winter
When the snow falls on the ground
Praise the Lord for His glorious presence
When we stand upon holy ground
Praise the Lord of the summer
When the days are warm and long
Praise the Lord for His magnificent splendor
And the saints shall sing a new song
Praise the Lord of the springtime
When the blossoms on the tree
Praise the Lord for His holiness
And for the Blood that set us free
Praise the Lord of the Autumn
When the leaves fall to the ground
Praise the Lord for His faithfulness
And that His grace abounds
Praise the Lord when your happy
And there's a smile upon your face
Praise the Lord for His mercy
And for His saving grace
Praise the Lord when you're in despair
And your pierced by a fiery dart
Praise the Lord for HIs loving kindness
That restores your broken heart
Praise the Lord with your last breath
As you lie upon your bed
Praise the Lord for His promises
To raise you from the dead
Praise the Lord for all eternity
As you gather around His throne
Praise the Lord for His incredible beauty
As you worship Him alone
Let trumpet, harp and timbrel praise
And dance before the King
Let all with breath praise the Lord
And with their voices sing
Hallelujah to the King of Kings
We worship and bow down
We sing to you forever more
And we will crown Him with many crowns
poem by Frank McEleny

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Songs of Praise the Angels Sang
Songs of praise the angels sang,
Heav’n with alleluias rang,
When creation was begun,
When God spoke and it was done.
Songs of praise awoke the morn
When the Prince of Peace was born;
Songs of praise arose when He
Captive led Captivity.
Heav’n and earth must pass away!
Songs of praise shall crown that day!
God will make new heav’ns and earth;
Songs of praise shall hail their birth.
And can man alone be dumb,
Till that glorious kingdom come?
No: the church delights to raise
Psalms, and hymns, and songs of praise.
Saints below, with heart and voice,
Still in songs of praise rejoice,
Learning here, by faith and love,
Songs of praise to sing above.
Borne upon their latest breath,
Songs of praise shall conquer death;
Then amidst eternal joy,
Songs of praise their powers employ.
Hymns of glory, songs of praise,
Father, unto Thee we raise;
Jesus, glory unto Thee,
With the Spirit, ever be.
poem by James Montgomery

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Psalm 135
Praise due to God, not to idols.
Awake, ye saints; to praise your King,
Your sweetest passions raise,
Your pious pleasure, while you sing,
Increasing with the praise.
Great is the Lord, and works unknown
Are his divine employ;
But still his saints are near his throne,
His treasure and his joy.
Heav'n, earth, and sea confess his hand;
He bids the vapors rise;
Lightning and storm at his command
Sweep through the sounding skies.
All power that gods or kings have claimed
Is found with him alone
But heathen gods should ne'er be named
Where our Jehovah's known.
Which of the stocks or stones they trust
Can give them showers of rain?
In vain they worship glitt'ring dust,
And pray to gold in vain.
[Their gods have tongues that cannot talk,
Such as their makers gave;
Their feet were ne'er designed to walk,
Nor hands have power to save.
Blind are their eyes, their ears are deaf,
Nor hear when mortals pray;
Mortals that wait for their relief
Are blind and deaf as they.]
O Britain, know thy living God,
Serve him with faith and fear;
He makes thy churches his abode,
And claims thine honors there.
poem by Isaac Watts

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I & I
Been so long since a strange woman has slept in my bed.
Look how sweet she sleeps, how free must be her dreams.
In another lifetime she must have owned the world, or been faithfully wed
To some righteous king who wrote psalms beside moonlit streams.
I and i
In creation where ones nature neither honors nor forgives.
I and i
One says to the other, no man sees my face and lives.
Think Ill go out and go for a walk,
Not much happenin here, nothin ever does.
Besides, if she wakes up now, shell just want me to talk
I got nothin to say, specially about whatever was.
I and i
In creation where ones nature neither honors nor forgives.
I and i
One says to the other, no man sees my face and lives.
Took an untrodden path once, where the swift dont win the race,
It goes to the worthy, who can divide the word of truth.
Took a stranger to teach me, to look into justices beautiful face
And to see an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.
I and i
In creation where ones nature neither honors nor forgives.
I and i
One says to the other, no man sees my face and lives.
Outside of two men on a train platform theres nobody in sight,
Theyre waiting for spring to come, smoking down the track.
The world could come to an end tonight, but thats all right.
She should still be there sleepin when I get back.
I and i
In creation where ones nature neither honors nor forgives.
I and i
One says to the other, no man sees my face and lives.
Noontime, and Im still pushin myself along the road, the darkest part,
Into the narrow lanes, I cant stumble or stay put.
Someone else is speakin with my mouth, but Im listening only to my heart.
Ive made shoes for everyone, even you, while I still go barefoot.
I and i
In creation where ones nature neither honors nor forgives.
I and i
One says to the other, no man sees my face and lives.
song performed by by Bob Dylan

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I And I
Been so long since a strange woman has slept in my bed.
Look how sweet she sleeps, how free must be her dreams.
In another lifetime she must have owned the world, or been faithfully wed
To some righteous king who wrote psalms beside moonlit streams.
I and i
In creation where ones nature neither honors nor forgives.
I and i
One says to the other, no man sees my face and lives.
Think Ill go out and go for a walk,
Not much happenin here, nothin ever does.
Besides, if she wakes up now, shell just want me to talk
I got nothin to say, specially about whatever was.
I and i
In creation where ones nature neither honors nor forgives.
I and i
One says to the other, no man sees my face and lives.
Took an untrodden path once, where the swift dont win the race,
It goes to the worthy, who can divide the word of truth.
Took a stranger to teach me, to look into justices beautiful face
And to see an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.
I and i
In creation where ones nature neither honors nor forgives.
I and i
One says to the other, no man sees my face and lives.
Outside of two men on a train platform theres nobody in sight,
Theyre waiting for spring to come, smoking down the track.
The world could come to an end tonight, but thats all right.
She should still be there sleepin when I get back.
I and i
In creation where ones nature neither honors nor forgives.
I and i
One says to the other, no man sees my face and lives.
Noontime, and Im still pushin myself along the road, the darkest part,
Into the narrow lanes, I cant stumble or stay put.
Someone else is speakin with my mouth, but Im listening only to my heart.
Ive made shoes for everyone, even you, while I still go barefoot.
I and i
In creation where ones nature neither honors nor forgives.
I and i
One says to the other, no man sees my face and lives.
song performed by by Bob Dylan

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Emancipation Hymn
Praise we the Lord! let songs resound
To earth’s remotest shore!
Songs of thanksgiving, songs of praise —
For we are slaves no more.
Praise we the Lord! His power hath rent
The chains that held us long!
His voice is mighty, as of old,
And still His arm is strong.
Praise we the Lord! His wrath arose,
His arm our fetters broke;
The tyrant dropped the lash, and we
To liberty awoke!
Praise we the Lord! let ho’y songs
Rise from these happy isles! —
O! let us not unworthy prove,
On whom His bounty smiles.
And cease we not the fight of faith
Till all mankind be free;
Till mercy o’er the earth shall flow,
As waters o’er the sea.
Then shall indeed Messiah’s reign
Through nil the world extend;
Then swords to ploughshares shall be turned,
And Heaven with earth shall blend.
poem by Anonymous Americas

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Psalm 65 part 2
v.5-13
L. M.
Divine providence in air, earth, and sea.
The God of our salvation hears
The groans of Zion mixed with tears;
Yet when he comes with kind designs,
Through all the way his terror shines.
On him the race of man depends,
Far as the earth's remotest ends,
Where the Creator's name is known
By nature's feeble light alone.
Sailors, that travel o'er the flood,
Address their frighted souls to God,
When tempests rage and billows roar
At dreadful distance from the shore.
He bids the noisy tempests cease;
He calms the raging crowd to peace,
When a tumultuous nation raves
Wild as the winds, and loud as waves.
Whole kingdoms, shaken by the storm,
He settles in a peaceful form;
Mountains, established by his hand,
Firm on their old foundations stand.
Behold his ensigns sweep the sky,
New comets blaze, and lightnings fly;
The heathen lands, with swift surprise,
From the bright horrors turn their eyes.
At his command the morning ray
Smiles in the east, and leads the day;
He guides the sun's declining wheels
Over the tops of western hills.
Seasons and times obey his voice;
The ev'ning and the morn rejoice
To see the earth made soft with showers,
Laden with fruit, and dressed in flowers.
'Tis from his wat'ry stores on high
He gives the thirsty ground supply;
He walks upon the clouds, and thence
Doth his enriching drops dispense.
The desert grows a fruitful field,
Abundant food the valleys yield;
The valleys shout with cheerful voice,
And neighb'ring hills repeat their joys.
The pastures smile in green array;
There lambs and larger cattle play;
The larger cattle and the lamb
Each in his language speaks thy name.
Thy works pronounce thy power divine;
O'er every field thy glories shine;
Through every month thy gifts appear;
Great God, thy goodness crowns the year!
poem by Isaac Watts

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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