Psalms 42
1 To him that excelleth. A Psalme to give instruction, committed to the sonnes of Korah. As the harte brayeth for the riuers of water, so panteth my soule after thee, O God.
To victorie, to the sones of Chore. As an hert desirith to the wellis of watris; so thou, God, my soule desirith to thee.
2 My soule thirsteth for God, euen for the liuing God: when shall I come and appeare before the presence of God?
Mi soule thirstide to God, `that is a `quik welle; whanne schal Y come, and appere bifor the face of God?
3 My teares haue bin my meate day and night, while they dayly say vnto me, Where is thy God?
Mi teeris weren looues to me bi dai and nyyt; while it is seid to me ech dai, Where is thi God?
4 When I remembred these things, I powred out my very heart, because I had gone with the multitude, and ledde them into the House of God with the voyce of singing, and prayse, as a multitude that keepeth a feast.
I bithouyte of these thingis, and Y schedde out in me my soule; for Y schal passe in to the place of the wondurful tabernacle, til to the hows of God. In the vois of ful out ioiyng and knoulechyng; is the sown of the etere.
5 Why art thou cast downe, my soule, and vnquiet within me? waite on God: for I will yet giue him thankes for the helpe of his presence.
Mi soule, whi art thou sory; and whi disturblist thou me? Hope thou in God, for yit Y schal knouleche to hym; he is the helthe of my cheer,
6 My God, my soule is cast downe within me, because I remember thee, from the land of Iorden, and Hermonim, and from the mount Mizar.
and my God. My soule is disturblid at my silf; therfor, God, Y schal be myndeful of thee fro the lond of Jordan, and fro the litil hil Hermonyim.
7 One deepe calleth another deepe by the noyse of thy water spoutes: all thy waues and thy floods are gone ouer me.
Depthe clepith depthe; in the vois of thi wyndows. Alle thin hiye thingis and thi wawis; passiden ouer me.
8 The Lord will graunt his louing kindenesse in the day, and in the night shall I sing of him, euen a prayer vnto the God of my life.
The Lord sente his merci in the dai; and his song in the nyyt.
9 I wil say vnto God, which is my rocke, Why hast thou forgotten mee? why goe I mourning, when the enemie oppresseth me?
At me is a preier to the God of my lijf; Y schal seie to God, Thou art my `takere vp. Whi foryetist thou me; and whi go Y sorewful, while the enemy turmentith me?
10 My bones are cut asunder, while mine enemies reproch me, saying dayly vnto me, Where is thy God?
While my boonys ben brokun togidere; myn enemyes, that troblen me, dispiseden me. While thei seien to me, bi alle daies; Where is thi God?
11 Why art thou cast downe, my soule? and why art thou disquieted within mee? waite on God: for I wil yet giue him thankes: he is my present helpe, and my God.
Mi soule, whi art thou sori; and whi disturblist thou me? Hope thou in God, for yit Y schal knouleche to hym; `he is the helthe of my cheer, and my God.
