Blessed be the Lord, my rock, who trains my hand,
My fortress strong, my shield in whom I trust.
What is man, that Thou shouldst his life command,
His fleeting days, like shadows, turn to dust?
Bow down the heavens, Lord, descend in might,
Touch mountains, let them smoke, Thy lightning send.
From foreign foes deliver me by right,
Their mouths of lies, their hands of falsehood rend.
I’ll sing a new song, harp and voice to raise,
To Thee, who kings dost save, Thy servant free.
From cruel sword, my sons like plants to praise,
My daughters fair, like pillars carved to be.
Our barns be full, our flocks in thousands grow,
No cry of war, no breach within our gate.
Blessed the people, Lord, whose God they know,
Whose joy is Thee, their everlasting fate.
imaginate.pro 