Psalm 102 - A Prayer of the Afflicted Overwhelmed
From ashes eaten as bread to the confession that God's years have no end.
Titled 'A Prayer of the afflicted, when he is overwhelmed,' Psalm 102 follows David's vow of integrity in Psalms 101 with raw suffering, comparing the psalmist's days to smoke and himself to 'an owl of the desert.'
The title of `hundred and secounde salm. `Of Dauid. Mi soule, blesse thou the Lord; and alle thingis that ben with ynne me, blesse his hooli name.
Mi soule, blesse thou the Lord; and nyle thou foryete alle the yeldyngis of him.
Which doith merci to alle thi wickidnessis; which heelith alle thi sijknessis.
Which ayenbieth thi lijf fro deth; which corowneth thee in merci and merciful doyngis.
Which fillith thi desijr in goodis; thi yongthe schal be renulid as the yongthe of an egle.
The Lord doynge mercies; and doom to alle men suffringe wrong.
He made hise weies knowun to Moises; hise willis to the sones of Israel.
The Lord is merciful doer, and merciful in wille; longe abidinge, and myche merciful.
He schal not be wrooth with outen ende; and he schal not thretne with outen ende.
He dide not to vs aftir oure synnes; nether he yeldide to vs aftir oure wickidnessis.
For bi the hiynesse of heuene fro erthe; he made strong his merci on men dredynge hym.
As myche as the eest is fer fro the west; he made fer oure wickidnessis fro vs.
As a fadir hath merci on sones, the Lord hadde merci on men dredynge him;
for he knewe oure makyng.
He bithouyte that we ben dust, a man is as hey; his dai schal flowre out so as a flour of the feeld.
For the spirit schal passe in hym, and schal not abide; and schal no more knowe his place.
But the merci of the Lord is fro with out bigynnyng, and til in to with outen ende; on men dredinge hym. And his riytfulnesse is in to the sones of sones;
to hem that kepen his testament. And ben myndeful of hise comaundementis; to do tho.
The Lord hath maad redi his seete in heuene; and his rewme schal be lord of alle.
Aungels of the Lord, blesse ye the Lord; ye myyti in vertu, doynge his word, to here the vois of hise wordis.
Alle vertues of the Lord, blesse ye the Lord; ye mynystris of hym that doen his wille.
Alle werkis of the Lord, blesse ye the Lord, in ech place of his lordschipe; my soule, blesse thou the Lord.