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.