Sunday evening

(Image from Snapshots of Joy.)

I have been blessed, once again, to join with my family and others in worshiping the Lord this Sunday. We enjoyed good fellowship with one another as well, and now, it is late. Therefore, I will leave you with only a wee post, an excerpt from the metrical version of Psalm 19, verses 1 through 6:

1 The heav’ns God’s glory do declare,
the skies his hand-works preach:
2 Day utters speech to day, and night
to night doth knowledge teach.
3 There is no speech nor tongue to which
their voice doth not extend:
4 Their line is gone through all the earth,
their words to the world’s end.

In them he set the sun a tent;
5 Who, bridegroom-like, forth goes
From’s chamber, as a strong man doth
to run his race rejoice.
6 From heav’n’s end is his going forth,
circling to th’ end again;
And there is nothing from his heat
that hidden doth remain.

We sing this psalm to the tune Crediton, which sounds like this: crediton

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