A poem on Psalm 65.
O God, in Zion praise awaits;
Your Mercy opens Heaven’s gates.
To You all flesh will humbly come
for sins Forgiven—guilt Undone.
Blest is the one whom You draw near
to dwell where Your own Courts appear.
We feast upon Your House’s store, —
its Holy Blessings evermore.
You answer prayers with deeds of Might:
the Earth is calmed, her Storms set right.
The Mountains stand, their strength Your own;
the Seas are stilled before Your throne.
The Morning dawns, the Evening sings, —
creation hums beneath Your wings.
You tend the Earth—her thirst You quench, —
with Streams that carve and Rains that drench.
The Furrows drink, the Fields grow green,
the Valleys bloom where Life has been.
Your crown of Goodness marks every year, —
Your Bounty flows; Your Love is clear.
The Pastures burst with flock at play;
the Hills rejoice in their array.
The Meadows shout, the Forests sing;
all Nature bows to You, its King.
The Lutheran Column 