1 Give ear to my words, O Jehovah; consider my meditation.2 Give attention to the voice of my cry, my King and my God; for unto You will I pray.3 My voice shall You hear in the morning, O Jehovah; in the morning I will direct my prayer unto You, and I will look up.4 For You are not a Mighty God that delights in wickedness; nor shall evil dwell with You.5 The boastful shall not stand in Your sight. You hate all doers of iniquity.6 You shall destroy those who speak lies; Jehovah abhors the man of blood and treachery.7 But as for me, I will come into Your house in the abundance of Your mercy; I will bow down in Your fear toward Your holy temple.8 Lead me, O Jehovah, in Your righteousness, because of my enemies; make Your way straight before my face.9 For there is no faithfulness in their mouth; their inward part is destruction; their throat is an open grave; they flatter with their tongue.10 Declare them guilty, O God; let them fall by their own counsels; cast them out in the multitude of their transgressions, for they have rebelled against You.11 But let all those who put their trust in You rejoice; let them always shout for joy, because You defend them. And let those who love Your name be joyful in You.12 For You, O Jehovah, will bless the righteous; with favor You will surround him as with a shield.

1 The title of the fyuethe salm. To the ouercomere on the eritagis, the song of Dauid.2 Lord, perseyue thou my wordis with eeris; vndurstonde thou my cry.3 Mi kyng, and my God; yyue thou tent to the vois of my preier.4 For, Lord, Y schal preie to thee; here thou eerly my vois.5 Eerli Y schal stonde nyy thee, and Y schal se; for thou art God not willynge wickidnesse.6 Nethir an yuel willid man schal dwelle bisidis thee; nethir vniust men schulen dwelle bifor thin iyen.7 Thou hatist alle that worchen wickidnesse; thou schalt leese alle that speken leesyng. The Lord schal holde abhomynable a manquellere, and gileful man.8 But, Lord, in the multitude of thi merci Y schal entre in to thin hows; Y schal worschipe to thin hooli temple in thi drede.9 Lord, lede thou forth me in thi riytfulnesse for myn enemyes; dresse thou my weie in thi siyt.10 For whi treuthe is not in her mouth; her herte is veyn.11 Her throte is an opyn sepulcre, thei diden gilefuli with her tungis; God, deme thou hem. Falle thei doun fro her thouytis, vp the multitude of her wickidnessis caste thou hem doun; for, Lord, thei han terrid thee to ire. And alle that hopen in thee, be glad; thei schulen make fulli ioye with outen ende, and thou schalt dwelle in hem.12 And alle that louen thi name schulen haue glorie in thee;13 for thou schalt blesse a iust man. Lord, thou hast corouned vs, as with the scheeld of thi good wille.