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 the degrees.” Unto the Lord, when I was in distress, did I call, and he hath answered me.

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

O Lord, deliver my soul from lips of falsehood, and from a tongue of deceit.

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

What will [God] give unto thee? or what will he add unto thee, thou tongue of deceit?

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

Sharpened arrows of the mighty, with coals of the broom-bush.

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 me, that I sojourn in Meshech, that I dwell in the tents of Kedar!

6 I was pesible with hem that hatiden pees;

Too long for herself hath my soul dwelt with him that hateth peace.

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

I am for peace; but when I speak, they are for war.