We give thanks, for Your name is near us; All Your wondrous works become our song. At the appointed time You judge with fairness, Though the earth and all its pillars rock. Do not lift your horn in pride; Do not speak with stubborn neck. Honor does not rise from east or westward; God alone is Judge. One He lowers, one He raises. In His hand a foaming cup is mixed. All the wicked drain its bitter portion; None can turn aside what He has fixed. I will sing to Jacob's God forever. Every wicked horn will be cut down. But the horns of righteous ones are lifted; Justice wears the everlasting crown.