Psalms 62

1 To the chief Musician, to Jeduthun, A Psalm of David. Truly my soul waiteth upon God: from him cometh my salvation.

To the victorie on Iditum, the salm of Dauid. Whether my soule schal not be suget to God; for myn heelthe is of hym.

2 He only is my rock and my salvation; he is my defence; I shall not be greatly moved.

For whi he is bothe my God, and myn heelthe; my `taker vp, Y schal no more be moued.

3 How long will ye imagine mischief against a man? ye shall be slain all of you: as a bowing wall shall ye be, and as a tottering fence.

Hou longe fallen ye on a man? alle ye sleen; as to a wal bowid, and a wal of stoon with out morter cast doun.

4 They only consult to cast him down from his excellency: they delight in lies: they bless with their mouth, but they curse inwardly. (Selah)

Netheles thei thouyten to putte awei my prijs, Y ran in thirst; with her mouth thei blessiden, and in her herte thei cursiden.

5 My soul, wait thou only upon God; for my expectation is from him.

Netheles, my soule, be thou suget to God; for my pacience is of hym.

6 He only is my rock and my salvation: he is my defence; I shall not be moved.

For he is my God, and my saueour; myn helpere, Y schal not passe out.

7 In God is my salvation and my glory: the rock of my strength, and my refuge, is in God.

Myn helthe, and my glorie is in God; God is the yyuer of myn help, and myn hope is in God.

8 Trust in him at all times; ye people, pour out your heart before him: God is a refuge for us. (Selah)

Al the gaderyng togidere of the puple, hope ye in God, schede ye out youre hertis bifore hym; God is oure helpere with outen ende.

9 Surely men of low degree are vanity, and men of high degree are a lie: to be laid in the balance, they are altogether lighter than vanity.

Netheles the sones of men ben veyne; the sones of men ben liers in balauncis, that thei disseyue of vanytee in to the same thing.

10 Trust not in oppression, and become not vain in robbery: if riches increase, set not your heart upon them.

Nile ye haue hope in wickidnesse, and nyle ye coueyte raueyns; if ritchessis be plenteuouse, nyle ye sette the herte therto.

11 God hath spoken once; twice have I heard this; that power belongeth to God.

God spak onys, Y herde these twei thingis, that power is of God, and, thou Lord, mercy is to thee;

12 Also to thee, O Lord, belongeth mercy: for thou renderest to every man according to his work.

for thou schalt yelde to ech man bi hise werkis.