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They fashion stone or wood and in sin
Worship it adorned with silver and gold,
And that it totter not as scarecrows in
A melon patch, they fasten it hold
By hammers with nails; there it will be

With eyes it cannot lift up or see,
With ears it cannot hear any sound,
With arms it cannot stretch out to free
And with feet it cannot walk around.
Those who make the mare like unto them.

They have hands but cannot feel the gem,
Nostrils but cannot smell incense burn,
Moths but cannot advise or condemn,
Neither is breath in their mouths; an urn
Is everyone who trusts these forms,

Which must be carried, sheltered from storms,
And they can do no good or no harm.
Thus, I will not trust in those deiforms,
Neither will I fear cause for alarm.
I will only fear the living Lord.

He alove is God, who can reward
And stretch out his arm to all the weak;
Hallelu Yah, he has a good record
To abase proud men and exalt the meek,
And he sees and hears us when we pray.

I lift up my eyes to Him night and day;
I wait for Him to thwart disaster.
My eyes wait for his mercy to stay,
As eyes of slaves wait for their master
With more hope than watchmen await morn,

For we’ve endured contempt, full of scorn.
“Now may the prisioners’ groans be heard
And dancing given to those who mourn.
Since we yearn for and trust your word.”
Then into our darkness and rubble,

A very present help in trouble
Said, “Wash your face and break bread and sup;
Strengthen your troops.  Your strength with double
At the time that I say, ‘Troops go up’,
And I will again restore your treasures.”

And with great spoils beyond all measures,
He turned our captivity again
With manifold fortunes and pleasures.
Unbelievably, we were like men
Who thought they were asleep in their dreams,

But we lift up our eyes (as he deems)
And saw his redemptin from of high.
By strength of his arm in the south as streams,
He preserved all those condemned to die
And delivered their hands from the pots,

Destroying bloodthirty men and their plots,
Removing our shoulders from under yokes;
They burned these alien gods and lots
As I directed the tribes and folks
To follow the king where he ascends - 

Into the holy hill where God descends
Among our praise as dewon Mount Zion;
As oil taht ran sown Aaron’s beard, attends,
Our dwelling in unity with scion;
It’s good and precious in pleasant peace.
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