The Lord is my high ridge, my stronghold, my deliverer. My God is my rocky summit where I take shelter, my shield, the horn that saves me, and my refuge.

Sound the ram's horn on the day of the new moon, and on the day of the full moon when our festival begins.

You exalt my horn like that of a wild ox. I am covered with fresh oil.

With trumpets and the blaring of the ram's horn, shout out praises before the king, the Lord!

Praise him with the blast of the horn! Praise him with the lyre and the harp!