How fitting and pleasant
It is to praise him
he builds up
he gathers the exiled
he heals the brokenhearted
He binds up wounds

He knows the trillions of stars
Calls them all by name
Great is he
Mighty in power
Limitless understanding

He sustains the humble
And casts away the wicked
Sing to him with thanksgiving
Make the harp's music call to him

Covering the sky with clouds,
He supplies us with the rain
Making grassy hills grow

His pleasure is not of strength
Nor his delight in the speed of man
He delights in those who fear him
Those who put their hope in his unfailing love

He strengthens the bars of your gates
And blesses those within it
Granting peace to its borders
satisfying you with the finest of things

He sends forth his command to the Earth
His word runs swiftly
He spreads the snow
Scatters the frost
Hurls down hail
He sends his word
Stirs up breezes
And waters flow
He has revealed his word
To Praise Him.