Habakkuk 3

²O Lord, I have heard of your renown,

and I stand in awe, O Lord, of your work.

In our own time revive it;

in our own time make it known;

in wrath may you remember mercy.

³God came from Teman,

the Holy One from Mount Paran.   Selah

His glory covered the heavens,

and the earth was full of his praise.

⁴The brightness was like the sun;

rays came forth from his hand,

where his power lay hidden.

⁵Before him went pestilence,

and plague followed close behind.

⁶He stopped and shook the earth;

he looked and made the nations tremble.

The eternal mountains were shattered;

along his ancient pathways

the everlasting hills sank low.

⁷I saw the tents of Cushan under affliction;

the tent-curtains of the land of Midian trembled.

⁸Was your wrath against the rivers, O Lord?

Or your anger against the rivers,

or your rage against the sea,

when you drove your horses,

your chariots to victory?

⁹You brandished your naked bow,

sated were the arrows at your command.   Selah

You split the earth with rivers.

¹⁰The mountains saw you, and writhed;

a torrent of water swept by;

the deep gave forth its voice.

The sun raised high its hands;

¹¹the moon stood still in its exalted place,

at the light of your arrows speeding by,

at the gleam of your flashing spear.

¹²In fury you trod the earth,

in anger you trampled nations.

¹³You came forth to save your people,

to save your anointed.

You crushed the head of the wicked house,

laying it bare from foundation to roof.   Selah

¹⁴You pierced with their own arrows the head of his warriors,

who came like a whirlwind to scatter us,

gloating as if ready to devour the poor who were in hiding.

¹⁵You trampled the sea with your horses,

churning the mighty waters.

¹⁶I hear, and I tremble within;

my lips quiver at the sound.

Rottenness enters into my bones,

and my steps tremble beneath me.

I wait quietly for the day of calamity

to come upon the people who attack us.

¹⁷Though the fig tree does not blossom,

and no fruit is on the vines;

though the produce of the olive fails,

and the fields yield no food;

though the flock is cut off from the fold,

and there is no herd in the stalls,

¹⁸yet I will rejoice in the Lord;

I will exult in the God of my salvation.

¹⁹God, the Lord, is my strength;

he makes my feet like the feet of a deer,

and makes me tread upon the heights.

To the leader: with stringed instruments.