Chapter 103

Bless the Lord, my soul; O Lord my God, what magnificence is thine! Glory and beauty are thy clothing.

The light is a garment thou dost wrap about thee, the heavens a curtain thy hand unfolds.

The waters of heaven are thy ante-chamber, the clouds thy chariot; on the wings of the wind thou dost come and go.

Thou wilt have thy angels be like the winds,1 the servants that wait on thee like a flame of fire.

The earth thou hast planted on its own firm base, undisturbed for all time.

The deep once covered it, like a cloak; the waters stood high above the mountains,

then cowered before thy rebuking word, fled away at thy voice of thunder,

leaving the mountain heights to rise, the valleys to sink into their appointed place!

And to these waters thou hast given a frontier they may not pass; never must they flow back, and cover the earth again.

Yet there shall be torrents flooding the glens, water-courses among the hills

that give drink to every wild beast; here the wild asses may slake their thirst.

The birds of heaven, too, will roost beside them; vocal is every bough with their music.

From thy high dwelling-place thou dost send rain upon the hills; thy hand gives earth all her plenty.

Grass must grow for the cattle; for man, too, she must put forth her shoots, if he is to bring corn out from her bosom;

if there is to be wine that will rejoice man’s heart, oil to make his face shine, and bread that will keep man’s strength from failing.

Moisture there must be for the forest trees, for the cedars of Lebanon, trees of the Lord’s own planting.

Here it is the birds build their nests; the stork makes its home in the fir-branches;

finds refuge there such as the goats find in the high hills, the coney in its cave.

He has given us the moon for our calendar; the sun knows well the hour of his setting.

Thou dost decree darkness, and the night falls; in the night all the forest is astir with prowling beasts;

the young lions go roaring after their prey, God’s pensioners, asking for their food.

Then the sun rises, and they slink away to lie down in their dens,

while man goes abroad to toil and drudge till the evening.

What diversity, Lord, in thy creatures! What wisdom has designed them all! There is nothing on earth but gives proof of thy creative power.

There lies the vast ocean, stretching wide on every hand; this, too, is peopled with living things past number, great creatures and small;

the ships pass them on their course. Leviathan himself is among them; him, too, thou hast created to roam there at his pleasure.

And all look to thee to send them their food at the appointed time;

it is through thy gift they find it, thy hand opens, and all are filled with content.

But see, thou hidest thy face, and they are dismayed; thou takest their life from them, and they breathe no more, go back to the dust they came from.

Then thou sendest forth thy spirit, and there is fresh creation; thou dost repeople the face of earth.

Glory be to the Lord for ever; still let him take delight in his creatures.

One glance from him makes earth tremble; at his touch, the mountains are wreathed in smoke.

While life lasts, I will sing in the Lord’s honour; my praise shall be his while I have breath to praise him;

oh, may this prayer with him find acceptance, in whom is all my content!

Perish all sinners from the land, let the wrong-doers be forgotten! But thou, my soul, bless the Lord. Alleluia.