Psalm 41

W. van der Kamp, 1972, rev.

1. How blest is he who will regard the poor:
   He shall forever stand.
   In troubled days the LORD makes him endure:
   Blest is he in the land.
   His enemies demand his life in vain,
   Though he be near death’s door.
   The LORD sustains him on his bed of pain:
   His health Thou shalt restore.
   
2. I said, “O LORD, be gracious unto me,
   Heal me, my sins are great.”
   In malice speak my enemies of me,
   And for my death they wait.
   My visitor says empty words, O God,
   With mischief in his heart.
   When he goes out, he tells it all abroad,
   Rejoicing when I smart.
   
3. My enemies, with hatred fierce and grim,
   All whisper in disdain,
   “A deadly thing has gotten hold of him,
   He will not rise again.”
   See how my bosom friend, whom I did trust,
   With whom I shared my bread,
   Has turned against me, showing his disgust,
   And slanderous tales has spread.
   
4. But Thou, O LORD, be gracious unto me;
   Let me their ill requite.
   By this I know that Thou art pleased with me:
   My foes are put to flight.
   Forever in Thy presence I shall dwell,
   Upheld by Thee again.
   Blest be the LORD, the God of Israel,
   From age to age! Amen.