Salmos 70 - Bíblia Online

The seuentithe salm hath no title. Lord, Y hopide in thee, be Y not schent with outen ende; 
in thi riytwisnesse delyuere thou me, and rauysche me out. Bowe doun thin eere to me; and make me saaf. 
Be thou to me in to God a defendere; and in to a strengthid place, that thou make me saaf. For thou art my stidefastnesse; and my refuit. 
My God, delyuere thou me fro the hoond of the synner; and fro the hoond of a man doynge ayens the lawe, and of the wickid man. 
For thou, Lord, art my pacience; Lord, thou art myn hope fro my yongthe. 
In thee Y am confermyd fro the wombe; thou art my defendere fro the wombe of my modir. 
My syngyng is euere in thee; Y am maad as a greet wonder to many men; and thou art a strong helpere. 
My mouth be fillid with heriyng; that Y synge thi glorie, al dai thi greetnesse. 
Caste thou not awei me in the tyme of eldnesse; whanne my vertu failith, forsake thou not me. 
For myn enemyes seiden of me; and thei that kepten my lijf maden counsel togidere. 
Seiynge, God hath forsake hym; pursue ye, and take hym; for noon is that schal delyuere. 
God, be thou not maad afer fro me; my God, biholde thou in to myn help. 
Men that bacbiten my soule, be schent, and faile thei; and be thei hilid with schenschip and schame, that seken yuels to me. 
But Y schal hope euere; and Y schal adde euere ouer al thi preising. 
Mi mouth schal telle thi riytfulnesse; al dai thin helthe. For Y knewe not lettrure, Y schal entre in to the poweres of the Lord; 
Lord, Y schal bithenke on thi riytfulnesse aloone. 
God, thou hast tauyt me fro my yongthe, and `til to now; Y schal telle out thi merueilis. 
And til in to `the eldnesse and the laste age; God, forsake thou not me. Til Y telle thin arm; to eche generacioun, that schal come. Til Y telle thi myyt, 
and thi riytfulnesse, God, til in to the hiyeste grete dedis which thou hast do; God, who is lijk thee? 
Hou grete tribulaciouns many and yuele hast thou schewid to me; and thou conuertid hast quykenyd me, and hast eft brouyt me ayen fro the depthis of erthe. 
Thou hast multiplied thi greet doyng; and thou conuertid hast coumfortid me. 
For whi and Y schal knowleche to thee, thou God, thi treuthe in the instrumentis of salm; Y schal synge in an harpe to thee, that art the hooli of Israel. 
Mi lippis schulen make fulli ioye, whanne Y schal synge to thee; and my soule, which thou ayen bouytist. 
But and my tunge schal thenke al dai on thi riytfulnesse; whanne thei schulen be schent and aschamed, that seken yuelis to me. 

Salmos 71

The seuentithe salm hath no title. Lord, Y hopide in thee, be Y not schent with outen ende; 
in thi riytwisnesse delyuere thou me, and rauysche me out. Bowe doun thin eere to me; and make me saaf. 
Be thou to me in to God a defendere; and in to a strengthid place, that thou make me saaf. For thou art my stidefastnesse; and my refuit. 
My God, delyuere thou me fro the hoond of the synner; and fro the hoond of a man doynge ayens the lawe, and of the wickid man. 
For thou, Lord, art my pacience; Lord, thou art myn hope fro my yongthe. 
In thee Y am confermyd fro the wombe; thou art my defendere fro the wombe of my modir. 
My syngyng is euere in thee; Y am maad as a greet wonder to many men; and thou art a strong helpere. 
My mouth be fillid with heriyng; that Y synge thi glorie, al dai thi greetnesse. 
Caste thou not awei me in the tyme of eldnesse; whanne my vertu failith, forsake thou not me. 
For myn enemyes seiden of me; and thei that kepten my lijf maden counsel togidere. 
Seiynge, God hath forsake hym; pursue ye, and take hym; for noon is that schal delyuere. 
God, be thou not maad afer fro me; my God, biholde thou in to myn help. 
Men that bacbiten my soule, be schent, and faile thei; and be thei hilid with schenschip and schame, that seken yuels to me. 
But Y schal hope euere; and Y schal adde euere ouer al thi preising. 
Mi mouth schal telle thi riytfulnesse; al dai thin helthe. For Y knewe not lettrure, Y schal entre in to the poweres of the Lord; 
Lord, Y schal bithenke on thi riytfulnesse aloone. 
God, thou hast tauyt me fro my yongthe, and `til to now; Y schal telle out thi merueilis. 
And til in to `the eldnesse and the laste age; God, forsake thou not me. Til Y telle thin arm; to eche generacioun, that schal come. Til Y telle thi myyt, 
and thi riytfulnesse, God, til in to the hiyeste grete dedis which thou hast do; God, who is lijk thee? 
Hou grete tribulaciouns many and yuele hast thou schewid to me; and thou conuertid hast quykenyd me, and hast eft brouyt me ayen fro the depthis of erthe. 
Thou hast multiplied thi greet doyng; and thou conuertid hast coumfortid me. 
For whi and Y schal knowleche to thee, thou God, thi treuthe in the instrumentis of salm; Y schal synge in an harpe to thee, that art the hooli of Israel. 
Mi lippis schulen make fulli ioye, whanne Y schal synge to thee; and my soule, which thou ayen bouytist. 
But and my tunge schal thenke al dai on thi riytfulnesse; whanne thei schulen be schent and aschamed, that seken yuelis to me. 

Salmos 71