Paraphrase of Psalm 47


Oh, clap your hand, ye people, shout to God
In triumph, for most terrible and high
He sits a mighty King o’er earth and sky.
He shall lay nations low where we have trod.
Our heritage He chooses, Jacob’s sons;
God has gone up with trumpets and a shout,
So let us fill the air with praise about,
For God is King of all the earthly ones!
The heathen, too, are ruled by God the King;
In holiness He sits upon the throne.
His praise with understanding we must own.
The princes of the world their tribute bring,
Their shields belong to God who gave them life;
Exalted shall He be above their strife!