Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, PSALM 65, by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE


Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

PSALM 65, by                    
First Line: Sion it is where thou art praysed
Last Line: Rejoice, shout, sing, and on thy name do call.


Sion it is where Thou art praysed
Sion O God where vowes they pay Thee
There all mens prayers to Thee raysed
Return possest of what they pray Thee
There Thou my sin prevailing to my shame
Dost turn to smoake of sacrificing flame

O he of blisse is not deceived
Whom chosen Thou unto Thee takest
And whom into Thy Court received
Thou of Thy checkroll number makest
The dainty Viands of thy Sacred store
Shall feed him so he shall not hunger more

From thence it is Thy threatning thunder
Least we by wrong should be disgraced
Doth strike Our foes with feare and wonder
O Thou on whom their hopes are placed
Whom either earth doth stedfastly sustain
Or cradle rocks of restless wavy plain

Thy virtue stayes the mighty mountains
Guirded with power, with strength abounding
The roaring damm of watry fountains
Thy beck doth make surcease her sounding
When stormy uproares tosse the peoples brain
The Civill sea to calm thou bringst again.

Where earth doth end with endlesse ending
All such as dwell thy Signs affright them
And in Thy prayse their voices spending
Both houses of the sun delight them
Both whence he comes, when early he awakes
And where he goes, when evning rest he takes.

Thy eye from heav'n this land beholdeth
Such fruitfull dewes down on it raining
That store house like her lapp enfoldeth
Assured hope of plough-mans gaining
Thy flowing streames her drouth do temper so
That buryed seed through yeilding grave doth grow.

Drunck is each ridg of Thy cupp drinking
Each clod relenteth at Thy dressing
Thy cloud-born waters inly sinking
Fair spring sprouts forth blest with Thy blessing
The fertile yeare is, with Thy bounty croun'd
And where thou go'est, thy goings fatt the ground.

Plenty bedewes the desert places
A hedg of mirth the hills encloseth
The feilds with flocks have hid their faces
A robe of corn the vallyes cloatheth
Deserts and hills and fields, and vallys all
Rejoice, shout, sing, and on Thy name do call.





Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!


Other Poems of Interest...
Home: PoetryExplorer.net