Psalms 42

1 To the chief Musician, Maschil, for the sons of Korah. As the hart panteth after the water brooks, so my soul panteth 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 soul thirsteth for God, for the living God: when shall I come and appear before God?

Mi soule thirstide to God, `that is a `quik welle; whanne schal Y come, and appere bifor the face of God?

3 My tears have been my food day and night, while they continually say to 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 remember these [things], I pour out my soul in me: for I had gone with the multitude, I went with them to the house of God, with the voice of joy and praise, with a multitude that kept holy-day.

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 down, O my soul? and [why] art thou disquieted in me? hope thou in God: for I shall yet praise him [for] the help of his countenance.

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 O my God, my soul is cast down within me: therefore will I remember thee from the land of Jordan, and of the Hermonites, from the hill 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 Deep calleth to deep at the noise of thy water-spouts: all thy waves and thy billows are gone over me.

Depthe clepith depthe; in the vois of thi wyndows. Alle thin hiye thingis and thi wawis; passiden ouer me.

8 [Yet] the LORD will command his loving-kindness in the day-time, and in the night his song [shall be] with me, [and] my prayer to the God of my life.

The Lord sente his merci in the dai; and his song in the nyyt.

9 I will say to God my rock, Why hast thou forgotten me? why go I mourning because of the oppression of the enemy?

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 [As] with a sword in my bones, my enemies reproach me; while they say daily to 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 down, O my soul? and why art thou disquieted within me? hope thou in God: for I shall yet praise him, [who is] the health of my countenance, 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.