Psalms 9
9
¶ Til the chief musicien apon Muth‐labben, Ane Psalm o’ David.
1I wull prayse thee, O Lord, wi’ my haill hairt; I wull shaw furth a’ thy mervellous warks.
2I wull be gladsume an’ rejoyce in thee: I wull sing prayse untill thy næme, O thou Maist Hie.
3Whan mine enimies ar turnet bak, thaye sall fa’ an’ perrishe at thy preesence.
4For thou hest manteenet my richt an’ caus; thou sattist in the throne juudgein’ richt.
5Thou hest snibbet the heæthin; thou hest destroyet the wicket: thair næme thou hest putten owt for evir an’ evir.
6Och thou enimie, destruckshons hae cum til ane perpetewal en’; an’ thou hest destroyet cities; thair memorall hæs perrishet wi’ thame.
7But the Lord sall induur foraye; he heth prepairet his throne for juudgemint;
8An’ he sall juudge the warld in richteousniss; he sall deel owt juudgemint til the peeple in uprichtniss.
9The Lord alsua wull be ane saufe hie‐plece for the oppresset; ane saufe hie‐howff in times o’ truble.
10An’ thaye that ken thy næme wull pit thair trust in thee; for thou, O Lord, hestna forhowet thame that seik thee.
11Sing prayses til the Lord whilk dwalls in Zion; speik furth amang the peeple his doin’s.
12Whan he mak’s inquæirie anent bluid, he min’s thame: he forgetsna the crye o’ the lawlie.
13Hae mercie apon me, O Lord; considdir my truble whilk I thole o’ thame that hæte me, thou that liftist me up frae the yettes o’ deæth.
14That in the yettes o’ the douchter o’ Zion I may shaw furth a’ thy prayse: I wull rejoyce in thy salvatione.
15The heæthin ar sunk doun in the pitt whilk thaye mæde: in the nette whilk thaye hæde is thair ain fit taen.
16The Lord is kennet bie the juudgemints that he deth; the wicket is girnet in the wark o’ his ain han’s. Higgaion. Selah.
17The wicket sall be turnet intil hell, an’ a’ the nationes that forgete God.
18For the needie sallna alwaye be forgottan: the expecktashon o’ the puir sallna perrishe foraye.
19Ræise up, O Lord, letna man get the owerance; let the heæthin be juudget in thy sicht.
20Pit thame in dreædour, O Lord; that the nationes may ken thamesel’s til be but men. Selah.
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Psalms 9: SCOHSR
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Translated by Henry Scott Riddell. Published in London 1856-8.
