Psalms 120

1 The song of greces. Whanne Y was set in tribulacioun, Y criede to the Lord; and he herde me.

A song of degrees. I called vnto the Lord in my trouble, and hee heard me.

2 Lord, delyuere thou my soule fro wickid lippis; and fro a gileful tunge.

Deliuer my soule, O Lord, from lying lippes, and from a deceitfull tongue.

3 What schal be youun to thee, ether what schal be leid to thee; to a gileful tunge?

What doeth thy deceitfull tongue bring vnto thee? or what doeth it auaile thee?

4 Scharpe arowis of the myyti; with colis that maken desolat.

It is as the sharpe arrowes of a mightie man, and as the coales of iuniper.

5 Allas to me! for my dwelling in an alien lond is maad long, Y dwellide with men dwellinge in Cedar; my soule was myche a comelyng.

Woe is to me that I remaine in Meschech, and dwell in the tentes of Kedar.

6 I was pesible with hem that hatiden pees;

My soule hath too long dwelt with him that hateth peace.

7 whanne Y spak to hem, thei ayenseiden me with outen cause.

I seeke peace, and when I speake thereof, they are bent to warre.