The voice of the LORD maketh the hinds to calve, And strippeth the forests bare: And in his temple every thing saith, Glory.
LORD, I love the habitation of thy house, And the place where thy glory dwelleth.
We have thought on thy lovingkindness, O God, In the midst of thy temple.
So have I looked upon thee in the sanctuary, To see thy power and thy glory.
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 thick clouds of smoke.