Psalms in Metre
   1  Blessed be the Lord my strength, that doth
         instruct my hands to fight;
      The Lord that doth my fingers frame
         to battle by his might.
 
   2  He is my hope, my fort, and tow'r,
         deliverer and shield;
      In him I trust, my people he
         subdues to me to yield.
 
   3  O Lord, what thing is man, that him
         thou dost so highly prize!
      Or son of man, that upon him
         thou thinkest in such wise!
 
   4  Man is but like to vanity,
         so pass his days to end,
      As fleeting shade. Bow down, O Lord,
         the heav'ns, and thence descend;
 
   5  The mountains touch, and they shall smoke,
         cast forth thy lightning's flame,
      And scatter them; thy arrows shoot,
         consume them with the same.
 
   6  Send down thy hand from heav'n above,
         O Lord, deliver me;
      Take me from waters great, from hand
         of strangers set me free;
 
   7  Whose subtle mouth of vanity
         with flatt'ring words doth treat,
      And their right-hand is a right-hand
         of falsehood and deceit.
 
   8  A new song will I sing to thee,
         O God the Lord most high,
      And on a ten-stringed lute also
         praise thee most joyfully.
 
   9  E'en he it is that only gives
         deliverance to kings;
      Unto his servant David help
         from hurtful sword he brings;
 
  10  From strangers' hand me save and shield,
         whose mouth talks vanity,
      And their right-hand is a right-hand
         of guile and subtlety.
 
  11  That so our sons may be as plants
         which growing youth doth rear,
      Our daughters as carved corner-stones,
         like to a palace fair;
 
  12  Our garners full and plenty may
         of sundry sorts be found;
      Our sheep bring thousands, in our streets
         ten thousand may abound:
 
   13  Our oxen be to labour strong,
          that none may us invade;
       No goings out there be, nor cries
          within our streets be made.
 
  14  The people happy are that with
         such blessings great are storm;
      Yea, blessed all tile people are,
         whose God is God the Lord.