The voice of Jehovah maketh the hinds to calve, And strippeth the forests bare: And in his temple everything saith, Glory.
We have thought on thy lovingkindness, O God, In the midst of thy temple.
Jehovah, I love the habitation of thy house, And the place where thy glory dwelleth.
For wickedness burneth as the fire; it devoureth the briers and thorns; yea, it kindleth in the thickets of the forest, and they roll upward in a column of smoke.
So have I looked upon thee in the sanctuary, To see thy power and thy glory.