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My soul, praise the Lord 
 My soul, praise the Lord! O God, Thou art great: In fathomless works Thyself Thou dost hide. Before Thy dark wisdom And power uncreate, Man’s mind, that dare praise Thee, In fear must abide. 
 This earth where we dwell, That journeys in space, With air as a robe Thou wrappest around: Her countries she turneth To greet the sun’s face, Then plungeth to slumber In darkness profound. 
 All seemeth so sure, Yet nought doth remain: Unending their change Obeys Thy decree. The valleys of ocean Stand up a dry plain, Thou whelmest the mountains Beneath the deep sea. 
 The clouds gather rain And melt o’er the land, Then back to the sun Are drawn by His shine: Whereby the corn springeth Through toil of man’s hand, And vineyards that gladden His heart with good wine. 
 All beasts of the field Rejoice in their life; Among the tall trees Are light birds on wing: With strains of their music The woodlands are rife; They nest in thick branches And welcome sweet spring. 
 Lo, there is Thy sea, Whose bosom below With creatures doth teem, Scaled fishes and finned. Above, the ships laden With merchandise go, Nor fear the wild waters, Nor rage of rude wind. 
 O God, Thou art great! No greatness I see, Except Thee alone, 

Thy praise to record. On all Thy works musing My pleasure shall be; My joy shall be singing: My soul, praise the Lord! 
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