1 WYC The title of the nyne and twentithe salm. The salm of song, for the halewyng of the hows of Dauid. Lord, Y schal enhaunse thee, for thou hast vp take me; and thou delitidist not myn enemyes on me. BSB BSB: A Psalm. A song for the dedication of the temple. Of David. I will exalt You, O LORD, for You have lifted me up and have not allowed my foes to rejoice over me.
2 WYC Mi Lord God, Y criede to thee; and thou madist me hool. BSB BSB: O LORD my God, I cried to You for help, and You healed me.
3 WYC Lord, thou leddist out my soule fro helle; thou sauedist me fro hem that goen doun into the lake. BSB BSB: O LORD, You pulled me up from Sheol; You spared me from descending into the Pit.
4 WYC Ye seyntis of the Lord, synge to the Lord; and knowleche ye to the mynde of his hoolynesse. BSB BSB: Sing to the LORD, O you His saints, and praise His holy name.
5 WYC For ire is in his indignacioun; and lijf is in his wille. Wepyng schal dwelle at euentid; and gladnesse at the morewtid. BSB BSB: For His anger is fleeting, but His favor lasts a lifetime. Weeping may stay the night, but joy comes in the morning.
6 WYC Forsothe Y seide in my plentee; Y schal not be moued with outen ende. BSB BSB: In prosperity I said, “I will never be shaken.”
7 WYC Lord, in thi wille; thou hast youe vertu to my fairnesse. Thou turnedist awei thi face fro me; and Y am maad disturblid. BSB BSB: O LORD, You favored me; You made my mountain stand strong. When You hid Your face, I was dismayed.
8 WYC Lord, Y schal crye to thee; and Y schal preye to my God. BSB BSB: To You, O LORD, I called, and I begged my Lord for mercy:
9 WYC What profit is in my blood; while Y go doun in to corrupcioun? Whether dust schal knouleche to thee; ethir schal telle thi treuthe? BSB BSB: “What gain is there in my bloodshed, in my descent to the Pit? Will the dust praise You? Will it proclaim Your faithfulness?
10 WYC The Lord herde, and hadde merci on me; the Lord is maad myn helpere. BSB BSB: Hear me, O LORD, and have mercy; O LORD, be my helper.”
11 WYC Thou hast turned my weilyng in to ioye to me; thou hast to-rent my sak, and hast cumpassid me with gladnesse. BSB BSB: You turned my mourning into dancing; You peeled off my sackcloth and clothed me with joy,
12 WYC That my glorie synge to thee, and Y be not compunct; my Lord God, Y schal knouleche to thee with outen ende. BSB BSB: that my heart may sing Your praises and not be silent. O LORD my God, I will give thanks forever.
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