Psalm 147:1–11
1 aPraise ye the Lord:
For bit is good to sing praises unto our God;
cFor it is pleasant; and dpraise is comely.
2 eThe Lord doth build up Jerusalem:
He fgathereth together gthe outcasts of Israel.
3 hHe healeth ithe broken in heart,
And kbindeth up their †wounds.
4 lHe telleth the number of the stars;
mHe calleth them all by their names.
5 uGreat is our Lord, and oof great power:
†pHis understanding is infinite.
6 qThe Lord rlifteth up the meek:
He casteth the wicked down to the ground.
7 sSing unto the Lord with thanksgiving;
Sing praise upon the tharp unto our God:
8 Who covereth the heaven with clouds,
uWho prepareth rain for the earth,
vWho maketh grass to grow upon the mountains.
9 wHe giveth to the beast his food,
And xto the young ravens which cry.
10 He delighteth not in the strength of ythe horse:
He taketh not pleasure in the legs of a man.
11 zThe Lord taketh pleasure in them that fear him,
aIn those that hope in his mercy.