< Psalms 144 >
1 `A salm. Blessid be my Lord God, that techith myn hondis to werre; and my fyngris to batel.
[A Psalm off] David. Blessed be the LORD my rock, which teacheth my hands to war, [and] my fingers to fight:
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.
My lovingkindness, and my fortress, my high tower, and my deliverer; my shield, and he in whom I trust; who subdueth my people under 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 takest knowledge of him? or the son of man, that thou makest account of him?
4 A man is maad lijk vanyte; hise daies passen as schadow.
Man is like to vanity: his days are as a shadow that passeth away.
5 Lord, bowe doun thin heuenes, and come thou doun; touche thou hillis, and thei schulen make smoke.
Bow thy heavens, O LORD, and come down: touch the mountains, 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 lightning, and scatter them; send out thine arrows, and discomfit 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.
Stretch forth thine hand from above; rescue me, and deliver me out of great waters, out of the hand of strangers;
8 The mouth of which spak vanite; and the riythond of hem is the riyt hond of wickidnesse.
Whose mouth speaketh vanity, 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 will sing a new song unto thee, O God: upon a psaltery of ten strings will I sing praises unto thee.
10 Which yyuest heelthe to kingis; which ayen bouytist Dauid, thi seruaunt, fro the wickid swerd rauische thou out me.
It is he that giveth salvation unto kings: who rescueth David his servant from the hurtful sword.
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 deliver me out of the hand of strangers, whose mouth speaketh vanity, and their right hand is a right hand of falsehood.
12 Whose sones ben; as new plauntingis in her yongthe. The douytris of hem ben arayed; ourned about as the licnesse of the temple.
When our sons shall be as plants grown up in their youth; and our daughters as corner stones hewn after the fashion 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;
[When] our garners are full, affording all manner of store; [and] our sheep bring forth thousands and ten thousands in our fields;
14 her kien ben fatte. `No falling of wal is, nether passing ouere; nether cry is in the stretis of hem.
[When] our oxen are well laden; [when there is] no breaking in, and no going forth, and no outcry in our streets;
15 Thei seiden, `The puple is blessid, that hath these thingis; blessid is the puple, whos Lord is the God of it.
Happy is the people, that is in such a case: [yea], happy is the people, whose God is the LORD.