Psalms 104 Prayse the Lorde O my soule: O Lord my God, thou art become excedinge glorious, thou arte clothed with maiesty and honoure.

Matthew⁽ⁱ⁾ ¹ Prayse the Lorde O my soule: O Lord my God, thou art become excedinge glorious, thou arte clothed with maiesty and honoure. ² Thou deckest thy self with light, as it were with a garment, thou spredest out the heauen lyke a curtayne. ³ Thou voltest it aboue with waters, thou makest the cloudes thy charet, & goest vpon the wynges of the wynde. ⁴ Thou makest thyne aungels sprites, and thy ministers flammes of fyre. ⁵ Thou hast layed the earth vpon her foundacion, that it neuer moueth at any tyme. ⁶ Thou couerest it with the depe lyke as wt a garmente, so that the waters stande aboue the hylles. ⁷ But at thy rebuke they fle, at the voyce of thy thonder they are afrayed. ⁸ (Then are the hylles sene alofte, and the valleis beneth in their place which thou hast appoynted for them.) ⁹ Thou hast set them their boundes, which they maye not passe, that they turne not agayne to couer the earth. ¹⁰ Thou causest the welles to sprynge vp amonge the valleys, and the waters to runne amonge the hylles. ¹¹ That all beastes of the felde maye haue drynke, & that the wilde asses maye quenche their thyrste. ¹² Aboue vpon the hylles haue the foules of the ayre their habitacion, and singe amonge the braunches. ¹³ Thou waterest the hilles from aboue, the earth is filled wt the frutes of thy workes. ¹⁴ Thou bringest forth grasse for the cattell, and grene herbes for the seruice of men. Thou bringest fode out of the earth: ¹⁵ wyne to make glad the herte of man, oyle to make hym a chearfull countenaunce and bread to strength mans herte. ¹⁶ The trees of the Lord are ful of sappe, euen the trees of Libamis whiche he hathe planted. ¹⁷ There make the byrdes their nestes, & the fyrre hylles are a dwellyng for the storke. ¹⁸ The hilles are a refuge for the wilde goates, & so are the stony rockes for the conyes. ¹⁹ Thou hast appoynted the moone for certayne seasons, the sunne knoweth hys going doune. ²⁰ Thou makest darkenesse, that it maye be night, wherin all the beastes of the forest do moue. ²¹ Yea, and the yonge lyons which roare after their praye, and seke their meate at God. ²² But when the sunne aryseth, they get them awaye together, and lye them doune in their dennes. ²³ Then goeth man forth to hys worke, and to tyll hys lande vntyll the euenynge. ²⁴ O Lord, how manifolde are thy workes, right wisely hast thou made them al: yea, the earth is full of thy ryches. ²⁵ So is this great & wyde sea also, wherein are thynges creping innumerable, both smal and great beastes. ²⁶ There go the shippes ouer, and there is the Leuiathan, whom thou hast made, to take hys pastyme therein. ²⁷ They wayte all vpon the, that thou mayest geue them meate in due season. ²⁸ When thou geuest it them, they gather it: when thou openest thyne hande, they are filled with good. ²⁹ But when thou hydest thy face, they are sorowfull: if thou takest awaye their breth, they dye, & are turned agayne to their dust. ³⁰ Agayne, when thou lettest thy brethe goo forth, they are made, and so thou renuest the face of the earth. ³¹ The glorious maiesty of the Lorde endureth for euer, & the Lorde reioyseth in hys workes. ³² The earth trembleth at the loke of hym, he doethe but touche the hylles and they smoke. ³³ I wyll synge vnto the Lorde as longe as I lyue, I will prayse my God whyle I haue my beyng. ³⁴ O that my wordes might please hym, for my ioye is in the Lorde. ³⁵ As for synners, they shalbe consumed out of the earth, and the vngodlye shall come to an ende: but prayse thou the Lorde, O my soule. Prayse the euerlastynge.