He gives the hungry needful food,
And sets the pris'ners free.

5 By Him the blind receive their sight,
The weak and fall'n He rears;

With kind regard and tender love

He for the righteous cares.

6 The strangers He preserves from harm, The orphan kindly treats,

Defends the widow, and the wiles

Of all their foes defeats.

7 How holy is the LORD! how just,
How righteous all His ways!
How nigh to him, who with firm trust
For His assistance prays!

8 The LORD thy God, O Sion lives,
Thy everlasting King;
From age to age His reign endures:
Let all His praises sing.

PSALM 147

(S. M.)

The Psalmist praises Jehovah for his mercies, his providence, his protection of the Church, and the glorious privilege of the divine word and ordi

nances.

1 PRAISE ye, oh praise the LORD, To Him all praise be giv'n;

'Tis good his mercies to record, Delightful theme of heav'n!

2 Zion, His grace declare;
He builds Jerusalem,
He gathers Israel from afar
To glorify His name.

3 He for the contrite feels,

He makes the wounded whole; Med'cine He gives, binds up and heals The sorrows of the soul.

4 All heav'n His pow'r proclaims;
Stars shine at His command;
He tells their number, calls their names,
Form'd by His mighty hand.

5 His majesty adore;

How glorious is His might!

Great is the LORD; great is His pow'r;
His wisdom infinite!

6 Sing praises to the LORD,

Who spreads the clouds on high;
Food to the beasts His hands afford;
He hears the ravens cry.

7 How lovely in His sight

Are those who fear His name!
Pleasure He takes, and great delight,
In those who hope in Him.

8 Zion, God is thy guard,

Thy children He will bless;

Thy wants supply, thy works reward,
And grant the fruits of peace.

9 He gives His sacred word,
To guide our steps to heav'n;
No other nation can record
Such grace, such glory giv'n.
Praise ye the LORD.

HALLELUJAH!

PSALM 147.

II. Metre. (L.M.)

1 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.

2 He form'd 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 drown'd.

3 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.

4 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.

5 He makes the grass the hills adorn;
He clothes the smiling fields with corn;
The beasts with food His hands supply,
And the young ravens when they cry.

6 But saints are lovely in His sight,
He views His children with delight;
He sees their hopes, He knows their fear,
And looks, and loves His image there.
7 Praise GOD, from whom all blessings flow;
Praise Him, all creatures here below;
Praise Him above, ye heav'nly host;
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.

PSALM 148. (Old 104.)

The Psalmist exhorts the whole creation to unite in one grand chorus of praise and thanksgiving, the angelic hosts, the material heavens, the earth with all its inhabitants and productions, mankind of every age, and the Church of God, are invited to the universal harmony.

PRAISE ye the LORD. Praise Him in the

height; [light; Praise Him, sun and moon; praise Him, stars and Ye armies of heaven, ye angels above,

He spake-ye were form'd: adore

ye his love. 2 All creatures on earth, fulfil ye His word; He gave you your birth, His praises record; Ye storms, winds, and oceans, in chorus combine; Fire, hail, snow, and vapours; the theme is divine. 3 Ye mountains and hills, JEHOVAH adore ; Trees, laden with fruit, praise Him evermore; Kings, princes, and people, His wonderful name Excels earth and heav'n, in glory supreme.

4 Let youth and old age His mercies record,
With Israel draw near; oh, praise ye the LORD.
Ye saints, who exalted in glory shall reign,
Praise Him: hallelujah, for ever.

AMEN.

PSALM 148. II. Metre.

1 PRAISE ye the LORD, immortal choir,
Who fill the realms above,

Fraise Him, who form'd you of His fire,
Who feeds you with His love:
Shine to His praise, ye crystal skies,
The floor of His abode,

Or veil in shades your thousand eyes
Before your brighter GOD.

2 Thunder and hail, and fire and storms,
The troops of His command,
Appear in all your dreadful forms,
And speak His awful hand:
Shout to the LORD, ye surging seas,
In your majestic roar;

Let wave to wave resound His praise,
And shore reply to shore.

3 Wave your tall heads, ye lofty pines,
To Him that bids you grow;

Sweet clusters bend the fruitful vines
On ev'ry thankful bough.

Thus while the meaner creatures sing,
Ye mortals, take the sound;
Echo the glories of your King,
Through all the nations round.

(C. M.)