1 Rescue me, O Jehovah, from evil men; guard me against violent men,2 who have devised evil things in their hearts; they continually gather together for war.3 They have sharpened their tongues like a serpent; the poison of vipers is under their lips. Selah4 Keep me, O Jehovah, from the hands of the wicked; guard me against violent men, who have devised to overthrow my steps.5 The proud have hidden a snare for me, and cords; they have spread a net by the wayside; they have laid the bait for me. Selah6 I said unto Jehovah, You are my Mighty God; hear the voice of my supplications, O Jehovah.7 O Lord Jehovah, the strength of my salvation, You have covered my head in the day of battle.8 Do not grant, O Jehovah, the desires of the wicked; do not promote his evil plans, lest they be exalted. Selah9 As for the head of those who surround me, let the evil of their lips cover them;10 let burning coals fall upon them; let them be cast into the fire, into deep pits, that they rise not up again.11 Let not a man who speaks evil be established in the earth; evil shall hunt the violent man to overthrow him.12 I know that Jehovah will maintain the cause of the afflicted, and justice for the poor.13 Surely the righteous shall give thanks unto Your name; the upright shall dwell in Your presence.

1 The `title of the hundrid and fourtithe salm. `The salm `of Dauith. Lord, Y criede to thee, here thou me; yyue thou tent to my vois, whanne Y schal crye to thee.2 Mi preier be dressid as encense in thi siyt; the reisyng of myn hondis be as the euentid sacrifice.3 Lord, sette thou a keping to my mouth; and a dore of stonding aboute to my lippis.4 Bowe thou not myn herte in to wordis of malice; to excuse excusingis in synne. With men worchinge wickidnesse; and Y schal not comyne with the chosun men of hem.5 A iust man schal repreue me in mersi, and schal blame me; but the oile of a synner make not fat myn heed. For whi and yit my preier is in the wel plesaunt thingis of hem;6 for the domesmen of hem ioyned to the stoon weren sopun vp. Here thei my wordis,7 for tho weren myyti. As fatnesse is brokun out on the erthe; oure bonys ben scatered niy helle. Lord, Lord,8 for myn iyen ben to thee, Y hopide in thee; take thou not awei my soule.9 Kepe thou me fro the snare which thei ordeyneden to me; and fro the sclaundris of hem that worchen wickidnesse. Synneris schulen falle in the nett therof;10 Y am aloone til Y passe.