Psalm 65 NLT
For the choir director: A psalm of David. A song.
What mighty praise, O God,
belongs to you in Zion.
We will fulfill our vows to you,
for you answer our prayers,
and to you all people will come.
Though our hearts are filled with sins,
you forgive them all.
What joy for those you choose to bring near,
those who live in your holy courts.
What joys await us
inside your holy Temple.
You faithfully answer our prayers with awesome deeds,
O God our savior.
You are the hope of everyone on earth,
even those who sail on distant seas.
You formed the mountains by your power
and armed yourself with mighty strength.
You quieted the raging oceans
with their pounding waves
and silenced the shouting of the nations.
Those who live at the ends of the earth
stand in awe of your wonders.
From where the sun rises to where it sets,
you inspire shouts of joy.
You take care of the earth and water it,
making it rich and fertile.
The rivers of God will not run dry;
they provide a bountiful harvest of grain,
for you have ordered it so.
You drench the plowed ground with rain,
melting the clods and leveling the ridges.
You soften the earth with showers
and bless its abundant crops.
You crown the year with a bountiful harvest;
even the hard pathways overflow with abundance.
The wilderness becomes a lush pasture,
and the hillsides blossom with joy.
The meadows are clothed with flocks of sheep,
and the valleys are carpeted with grain.
They all shout and sing for joy!
Praise waits in Sion, Lord, for thee;
There shall our vows be paid:
Thou hast an ear when sinners pray;
All flesh shall seek thine aid.
Lord, our iniquities prevail,
But pardoning grace is thine;
And thou wilt grant us power and skill
To conquer every sin.
Blessed are those whom thou wilt choose
To bring them near thy face,
Give them a dwelling in thine house,
To feast upon thy grace.
In answering what thy church requests
Thy truth and terror shine,
And works of dreadful righteousness
Fulfill thy kind design.
Thus shall the wondering nations see
The Lord is good and just;
And distant islands fly to thee,
And make they name their trust.
—Isaac Watts (1674-1748)
from “Psalm 65”