8 But saints are lovely in his sight; He views his children with delight:  He sees their hope, he knows their fear, And looks and loves his image there.

Psalm 147:2.  Second Part. 
Summer and winter.

A song for Great Britain.

1 O Britain, praise thy mighty God,
And make his honours known abroad,
He bid the ocean round thee flow;
Not bars of brass could guard thee so.

2 Thy children are secure and blest; Thy shores have peace, thy cities rest; He feeds thy sons with finest wheat, And adds his blessing to their meat.

3 Thy changing season he ordains, Thine early and thy later rains:  His flakes of snow like wool he sends, And thus the springing corn defends.

4 With hoary frost he strews the ground; His hail descends with clattering sound:  Where is the man so vainly bold That dares defy his dreadful cold?

5 He bids the southern breezes blow, The ice dissolves, the waters flow; But he hath nobler works and ways To call the Britons to his praise.

6 To all the Isle his laws are shown, His gospel thro’ the nation known; He hath not thus reveal’d his word To every land:  Praise ye the Lord.

Psalm 147:3. 7-9 13-18.  C. M.
The seasons of the year.

1 With songs and honours sounding loud
Address the Lord on high;
Over the heavens he spreads his cloud,
And waters veil the sky.

2 He sends his showers of blessing down
To cheer the plains below;
He makes the grass the mountains crown,
And corn in vallies grow.

3 He gives the grazing ox his meat,
He hears the ravens cry;
But man, who tastes his finest wheat,
Should raise his honours high.

4 His steady counsels change the face
Of the declining year;
He bids the sun cut short his race,
And wintry days appear.

5 His hoary frost, his fleecy snow
Descend and clothe the ground;
The liquid streams forbear to flow,
In icy fetters bound.

6 When from his dreadful stores on high
He pours the rattling hail,
The wretch that dares this God defy
Shall find his courage fail.

7 He sends his word and melts the snow,
The fields no longer mourn;
He calls the warmer gales to blow,
And bids the spring return.

8 The changing wind, the flying cloud,
Obey his mighty word: 
With songs and honours sounding loud,
Praise ye the sovereign Lord.

Psalm 148:1.  P. M.
Praise to God from all creatures.

1 Ye tribes of Adam, join
With heaven, and earth, and seas,
And offer notes divine
To your Creator’s praise: 
Ye holy throng
Of angels bright,
In worlds of light,
Begin the song.

2 Thou sun with dazzling rays,
And moon that rules the night,
Shine to your Maker’s praise,
With stars of twinkling light: 
His power declare,
Ye floods on high,
And clouds that fly
In empty air.