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Sing to the Lord with thanksgiving; Sing praises on the harp to our God,
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Who covers the heavens with clouds, Who prepares rain for the earth, Who makes grass to grow on the mountains.
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He gives to the beast its food, And to the young ravens that cry.
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He does not delight in the strength of the horse; He takes no pleasure in the legs of a man.
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The Lord takes pleasure in those who fear Him, In those who hope in His mercy.
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Praise the Lord, O Jerusalem! Praise your God, O Zion!
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For He has strengthened the bars of your gates; He has blessed your children within you.
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He makes peace in your borders, And fills you with the finest wheat.
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He sends out His command to the earth; His word runs very swiftly.
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He gives snow like wool; He scatters the frost like ashes;
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He casts out His hail like morsels; Who can stand before His cold?