PSALM 100 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE

O all you lands, the treasures of youre joye
in merrie showte upon the Lord bestowe:
Your service cheerefully on him emploie,
with triumph songe into his presence goe:
knowe firste that he is God, and after knowe,
that God did us (not wee our selves) create.
wee are his flocke, for us his feedings growe:
wee are his folke, and he uphoulds oure state.
With thankfullnes, O enter then his gate:
make through each porche of his your praises ring
All good, all grace of his high name relate
he of all grace, all goodnes is the springe.
Time in no termes, his mercie comprehends:
from age to age, his truth itself extends.

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