Psalms 62
1 To the excelletn musician Ieduthun. A Psalme of David. Yet my soule keepeth silence vnto God: of him commeth my saluation.
To the victorie on Iditum, the salm of Dauid. Whether my soule schal not be suget to God; for myn heelthe is of hym.
2 Yet he is my strength and my saluation, and my defence: therefore I shall not much be mooued.
For whi he is bothe my God, and myn heelthe; my `taker vp, Y schal no more be moued.
3 How long wil ye imagine mischiefe against a man? ye shalbe all slaine: ye shalbe as a bowed wall, or as a wall shaken.
Hou longe fallen ye on a man? alle ye sleen; as to a wal bowid, and a wal of stoon with out morter cast doun.
4 Yet they consult to cast him downe from his dignitie: their delight is in lies, they blesse with their mouthes, but curse with their hearts. (Selah)
Netheles thei thouyten to putte awei my prijs, Y ran in thirst; with her mouth thei blessiden, and in her herte thei cursiden.
5 Yet my soule keepe thou silence vnto God: for mine hope is in him.
Netheles, my soule, be thou suget to God; for my pacience is of hym.
6 Yet is hee my strength, and my saluation, and my defence: therefore I shall not be mooued.
For he is my God, and my saueour; myn helpere, Y schal not passe out.
7 In God is my saluation and my glory, the rocke of my strength: in God is my trust.
Myn helthe, and my glorie is in God; God is the yyuer of myn help, and myn hope is in God.
8 Trust in him alway, ye people: powre out your hearts before him, for God is our hope. (Selah)
Al the gaderyng togidere of the puple, hope ye in God, schede ye out youre hertis bifore hym; God is oure helpere with outen ende.
9 Yet the children of men are vanitie, the chiefe men are lies: to lay them vpon a balance they are altogether lighter then vanitie.
Netheles the sones of men ben veyne; the sones of men ben liers in balauncis, that thei disseyue of vanytee in to the same thing.
10 Trust not in oppression nor in robberie: be not vaine: if riches increase, set not your heart thereon.
Nile ye haue hope in wickidnesse, and nyle ye coueyte raueyns; if ritchessis be plenteuouse, nyle ye sette the herte therto.
11 God spake once or twise, I haue heard it, that power belongeth vnto God,
God spak onys, Y herde these twei thingis, that power is of God, and, thou Lord, mercy is to thee;
12 And to thee, O Lord, mercie: for thou rewardest euery one according to his worke.
for thou schalt yelde to ech man bi hise werkis.
