Psalms 144
1 `A salm. Blessid be my Lord God, that techith myn hondis to werre; and my fyngris to batel.
A Psalme of David. Blessed be the Lord my strength, which teacheth mine hands to fight, and my fingers to battell.
2 Mi merci, and my refuyt; my takere vp, and my delyuerer. Mi defender, and Y hopide in him; and thou makist suget my puple vnder me.
He is my goodnes and my fortresse, my towre and my deliuerer, my shield, and in him I trust, which subdueth my people vnder me.
3 Lord, what is a man, for thou hast maad knowun to him; ether the sone of man, for thou arettist him of sum valu?
Lord, what is man that thou regardest him! or the sonne of man that thou thinkest vpon him!
4 A man is maad lijk vanyte; hise daies passen as schadow.
Man is like to vanitie: his dayes are like a shadow, that vanisheth.
5 Lord, bowe doun thin heuenes, and come thou doun; touche thou hillis, and thei schulen make smoke.
Bow thine heauens, O Lord, and come downe: touch the mountaines and they shall smoke.
6 Leite thou schynyng, and thou schalt scatere hem; sende thou out thin arowis, and thou schalt disturble hem.
Cast forth the lightning and scatter them: shoote out thine arrowes, and consume them.
7 Sende out thin hond fro an hiy, rauysche thou me out, and delyuere thou me fro many watris; and fro the hond of alien sones.
Send thine hand from aboue: deliuer me, and take me out of the great waters, and from the hand of strangers,
8 The mouth of which spak vanite; and the riythond of hem is the riyt hond of wickidnesse.
Whose mouth talketh vanitie, and their right hand is a right hand of falsehood.
9 God, Y schal synge to thee a new song; I schal seie salm to thee in a sautre of ten stringis.
I wil sing a new song vnto thee, O God, and sing vnto thee vpon a viole, and an instrument of ten strings.
10 Which yyuest heelthe to kingis; which ayen bouytist Dauid, thi seruaunt, fro the wickid swerd rauische thou out me.
It is he that giueth deliuerance vnto Kings, and rescueth Dauid his seruant from the hurtfull sworde.
11 And delyuere thou me fro `the hond of alien sones; the mouth of whiche spak vanyte, and the riythond of hem is the riyt hond of wickidnesse.
Rescue me, and deliuer me from the hand of strangers, whose mouth talketh vanitie, and their right hand is a right hand of falshood:
12 Whose sones ben; as new plauntingis in her yongthe. The douytris of hem ben arayed; ourned about as the licnesse of the temple.
That our sonnes may be as the plantes growing vp in their youth, and our daughters as the corner stones, grauen after the similitude of a palace:
13 The selers of hem ben fulle; bringinge out fro this vessel in to that. The scheep of hem ben with lambre, plenteuouse in her goingis out;
That our corners may be full, and abounding with diuers sorts, and that our sheepe may bring forth thousands and ten thousand in our streetes:
14 her kien ben fatte. `No falling of wal is, nether passing ouere; nether cry is in the stretis of hem.
That our oxen may be strong to labour: that there be none inuasion, nor going out, nor no crying in our streetes.
15 Thei seiden, `The puple is blessid, that hath these thingis; blessid is the puple, whos Lord is the God of it.
Blessed are the people, that be so, yea, blessed are the people, whose God is the Lord.
