Psalms 30

1 A Melody. A Song for the Dedication of the House. David’s. I will extol thee, O Yahweh, for thou hast drawn me up, —and not suffered my foes to rejoice over me.

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.

2 O Yahweh, my God, I cried for help unto thee, and thou hast healed me.

Mi Lord God, Y criede to thee; and thou madist me hool.

3 O Yahweh! thou hast lifted, out of hades, my soul, Thou hast brought me back to life, from among those who were going down to the pit. (Sheol h7585)

Lord, thou leddist out my soule fro helle; thou sauedist me fro hem that goen doun into the lake. (Sheol h7585)

4 Sweep the strings to Yahweh, ye his men of lovingkindness, and give ye praise at the mention of his holiness.

Ye seyntis of the Lord, synge to the Lord; and knowleche ye to the mynde of his hoolynesse.

5 For there is, a Moment, in his anger, a Life-time, in his good-pleasure, In the evening, cometh Weeping to lodge, But, by the morning,’tis a Shout of Triumph!

For ire is in his indignacioun; and lijf is in his wille. Wepyng schal dwelle at euentid; and gladnesse at the morewtid.

6 But, I, said, in my tranquility, I shall not be shaken to times age-abiding!

Forsothe Y seide in my plentee; Y schal not be moued with outen ende.

7 O Yahweh, in thy good-pleasure, hadst thou caused my mountain to stand, strong, —Thou didst hide thy face—I was dismayed!

Lord, in thi wille; thou hast youe vertu to my fairnesse. Thou turnedist awei thi face fro me; and Y am maad disturblid.

8 Unto thee, O Yahweh, do I cry, —and, unto My Lord, do I make supplication:

Lord, Y schal crye to thee; and Y schal preye to my God.

9 What profit in my blood? in my going down into the pit? Can dust praise thee? Can it declare thy faithfulness?

What profit is in my blood; while Y go doun in to corrupcioun? Whether dust schal knouleche to thee; ethir schal telle thi treuthe?

10 Hear, O Yahweh, and show me favour, O Yahweh! become thou a helper unto me.

The Lord herde, and hadde merci on me; the Lord is maad myn helpere.

11 Thou hast turned my lamentation, into a dance for me, —Thou hast torn off my sackcloth, and girded me with gladness:

Thou hast turned my weilyng in to ioye to me; thou hast to-rent my sak, and hast cumpassid me with gladnesse.

12 To the end that mine honour should make melody unto thee, and not be silent. O Yahweh, my God! Unto times age-abiding, will I praise thee.

That my glorie synge to thee, and Y be not compunct; my Lord God, Y schal knouleche to thee with outen ende.