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For, Lord, Y hopide in thee; my Lord God, thou schalt here me.

My Lord God, forsake thou not me; go thou not awei fro me.

Lord God of myn helthe; biholde thou in to myn help.

And he sente in to my mouth a newe song; a song to oure God. Many men schulen se, and schulen drede; and schulen haue hope in the Lord.

Mi Lord God, thou hast maad thi merueils manye; and in thi thouytis noon is, that is lijk thee. I teld, and Y spak; and thei ben multiplied aboue noumbre.

that Y schulde do thi wille; my God, Y wolde; and thi lawe in the myddis of myn herte.

Forsothe Y am a beggere and pore; the Lord is bisi of me. Thou arte myn helpere and my defendere; my God, tarie thou not.

Blessid be the Lord God of Israel, fro the world and in to the world; be it doon, be it doon.

The title of the oon and fourtithe salm. To victorie, to the sones of Chore. As an hert desirith to the wellis of watris; so thou, God, my soule desirith to thee.

Mi soule thirstide to God, `that is a `quik welle; whanne schal Y come, and appere bifor the face of God?

Mi teeris weren looues to me bi dai and nyyt; while it is seid to me ech dai, Where is thi God?

I bithouyte of these thingis, and Y schedde out in me my soule; for Y schal passe in to the place of the wondurful tabernacle, til to the hows of God. In the vois of ful out ioiyng and knoulechyng; is the sown of the etere.

Mi soule, whi art thou sory; and whi disturblist thou me? Hope thou in God, for yit Y schal knouleche to hym; he is the helthe of my cheer,

and my God. My soule is disturblid at my silf; therfor, God, Y schal be myndeful of thee fro the lond of Jordan, and fro the litil hil Hermonyim.

At me is a preier to the God of my lijf; Y schal seie to God, Thou art my `takere vp. Whi foryetist thou me; and whi go Y sorewful, while the enemy turmentith me?

While my boonys ben brokun togidere; myn enemyes, that troblen me, dispiseden me. While thei seien to me, bi alle daies; Where is thi God?

Mi soule, whi art thou sori; and whi disturblist thou me? Hope thou in God, for yit Y schal knouleche to hym; `he is the helthe of my cheer, and my God.

`The two and fourtithe salm. God, deme thou me, and departe thou my cause fro a folc not hooli; delyuere thou me fro a wickid man, and gileful.

For thou art God, my strengthe; whi hast thou put me abac, and whi go Y soreuful, while the enemy turmentith me?

And Y schal entre to the auter of God; to God, that gladith my yongthe. God, my God, Y schal knowleche to thee in an harpe; my soule,