How good it is to thank the Lord, on the ten-stringed lute and the harp, and with the melody of the lyre to sing your name, most high. How great are your works, oh Lord, and how deep your thoughts! A senseless man doesn’t know, and a fool cannot understand it. Though the evildoers flourish, they will be destroyed. Lord, you are on high forever more. Make me as strong as an ox, and anoint me with fresh oil. My eye will look down on my pursuers, and my ears will hear of the fate of my enemies. The righteous flourish like a palm. They are like a cedar, and still produce fruit in old age. They remain full of sap and green, to show that the Lord is upright. He is my rock, and there is no unrighteousness in him!