The sky keeps telling what God is worth; The wide air shows the work of His hands. One day pours it out to the next, One night passes the knowledge on. No speech, no language, Nowhere their voice goes unheard. Their line has run out through all the earth, Their words to the far edge of the world. He pitched a tent there for the sun, And it comes out like a bridegroom from his room, Glad as a runner at the start of the race. Nothing is hidden from its heat. What the Lord teaches is whole; it brings a life back. What He witnesses is certain; it makes the simple wise. What He commands is right; it gladdens the heart. What He speaks is clear; it opens the eyes. The fear of the Lord is clean, and it lasts. His judgments are true all the way through. Better to want them than gold, than the finest gold, Sweeter than honey straight from the comb. Who can see his own mistakes? Wash me from the ones I cannot find. Keep me back from what I would do on purpose; Do not let it get the better of me. Let what I say and what I turn over inside Be welcome in front of You, Lord, my rock and the one who buys me back.