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.