Violin Concerto in D major, Op. 61 - II. Larghetto

Blessed be the Lord, my strength, Which teaches my hands to war, and my fingers To fight: My goodness and my fortress; My high tower, my deliverer; my shield, And he whom trust; who subdues my people under Me. Lord, what is man, that you take knowledge of Him! Or the son of man, that you make Account of him! Man is like to vanity: his days are as Shadows that passes away. Bow thy heavens, O Lord, and come down: Touch the mountain, and they shall smoke. Cast forth lightning, scatter them: Shoot out thine arrows, and destroy them. Send thine hands from above; rid me, And deliver me out of great waters from the Hand of strange children; Whose mouth speaks vanity, And their right hand is the right hand of Falsehood. Our seed will be sown to the young God, A worm of sanctuary and instrument of ten string, Where they sing praises. But it is he that gives salvation unto kings, Who delivers David his servant from the heartless Sword. Bring me and deliver me from the hand Of strange children, whose mouth speaks vanity; And their right hand is the right hand of Falsehood. That our son may be as plants grown Up in their youths; that our daughters may be As corner stones, polished after the smoothness of The axe: That our garners may be full of Corn, affording all manner of dough: that our sheep May bring forth thousands and ten thousands our Streets: That our oxen may be strong to labour; That they leave no broken reed nor go out: That they may not complain in our street; Happy is that people, that in such case, Yeah, happy is that people, whose God is the Lord.