These things, I keep calling to mind, and pouring out, over me, my own soul, For I used to cross over with a crowd, Lead them in procession up to the house of God, With the voice of shouting and praise. - a throng keeping festival.

For the multitude of mankind shall give thanks unto thee, The remainder of the multitude, shall keep holy festival unto thee.

Blow, at the new moon, the horn, At the full moon, for the day of our sacred festival: