Song Collection

We give you thanks, O God, because your name is near. We give you thanks for all your works your wondrous deeds declare. You say, “I set the time; I judge with even hand; when earth and all its people quake, I make its pillars stand. “‘Boast not’ I tell the proud; to vile men, ‘Lift no horn. Do not lift up your horn on high or speak with haughty scorn.’” For lifting up comes not from east or west or south; but God is judge; he raises one and puts another down. The LORD’s hand holds a cup with foaming wine, well-mixed; he pours it out, and wicked ones must drink it to the dregs. But I fore’er proclaim, and Jacob’s God I’ll praise. The wicked’s horns I will cut off, the righteous I will raise.