Psalms 41

To the chief Musician, A Psalm of David.

1Blessed is he that considereth the poor: Yhwh will deliver him in time of trouble.12

2Yhwh will preserve him, and keep him alive; and he shall be blessed upon the earth: and thou wilt not deliver him unto the will of his enemies.3

3Yhwh will strengthen him upon the bed of languishing: thou wilt restore him from his bed of sickness.4

4I said, Yhwh, be merciful unto me: heal my soul; for I have sinned against thee.

5Mine enemies speak evil of me, When shall he die, and his name perish?

6And if he come to see me, he speaketh vanity: his heart gathereth iniquity to itself; when he goeth abroad, he telleth it.

7All that hate me whisper together against me: against me do they devise my hurt.5

8An evil disease, say they, cleaveth fast unto him: and now that he lieth he shall rise up no more.6

9Yea, mine own familiar friend, in whom I trusted, which did eat of my bread, hath lifted up his heel against me.78

10But thou, O Yhwh, be merciful unto me, and raise me up, that I may requite them.

11By this I know that thou favourest me, because mine enemy doth not triumph over me.

12And as for me, thou upholdest me in mine integrity, and settest me before thy face for ever.

13Blessed be Yhwh God of Israel from everlasting, and to everlasting. Amen, and Amen.