All cometh of God. Kindly is He
Whose song as joyous Lord of Hosts,
Tho I wish, I'm unfit to sing

Ere I see Him

In a realm of the living, where uneeded
Are tongue and mouth for praiseful note.
Here, tho unequal, let my voice, take

Thy path, David,

O noble king, Poet unrivalled,
Whose lute and voice of pure balm
Perish not of years nor fail to excel,

One alone from many;

For of God he sings, that formed the heavens;
To the stars He gave light - some He fixed
In place, others His wish launched forth

Into ordered errancy.

Wind He cloaked in fire, waters hold the land;
To natures so opposed, harmony He decreed;
Within them beasts, foul, fish, trees and plants

Doth He sustain.

In all He's wondrous, more so in Himself
Filled with ample joy and adornment His own,
In this adoration to His glory, a place

He gavst His creation.

Aye, in the heavens He's formed mirrors
Of His eternal sagacity, the Wisdoms pure;
Onto Him He draws us, tho base earth we be,

Tribeof Adam.

Goodness e'erlasting, Reason for all,
Grant we be grateful for so great an offering;
Thou gavst knowledge, let then the heart glow

With what reason extols!

Thrice blissful, Lord, who'd know Thee
As his actions'end and a love uncoveting
Hath for what alone be in Thy eternity

Of perfection.

Translated by Richard Sokoloski