By them the fowls of heaven rest,
And singing in their branches nest.
He waters from his clouds the hills;
The teeming earth with plenty fills.

He grass for cattle doth produce,
And every herb for human use:
That so he may his creatures feed,
And from the earth supply their need.

He makes the clusters of the vine,
To glad the sons of men with wine.
He oil to clear the face imparts,
And bread, the strength'ner of their hearts.

The trees, which God for fruit decreed,
Nor sap, nor moistning virtue need.
The lofty cedars by his hand
In Lebanon implanted stand.

Unto the birds these shelter yield,
And storks upon the fir-trees build:
Wild goats the hills defend, and feed,
And in the rocks the conies breed.

He makes the changing moon appear,
To note the seasons of the year:
The sun from him his strength doth get,
And knows the measure of his set.