The Bible

1

Bannit dy row yn Chiarn my niart: ta gynsaghey my laueyn dy chaggey, as my veïr dy ghleck;

Blessed be the Lord my strength: who teacheth my hands to war, and my fingers to fight!

2

My varrant as my hoor lajer, my chashtal as m'er livreyee, my endeilagh ayn ta mee treishteil: ta smaghtaghey yn pobble ta fo my reill.

My hope and my fortress, my castle and deliverer my defender in whom I trust: who subdueth my people that is under me.

3

Hiarn, cre ta dooinney, dy vel oo coyrt lheid y gheill da: ny mac dooinney dy vel oo jannoo wheesh jeh?

Lord, what is man that thou hast such respect unto him: or the son of man, that thou so regardest him?

4

Cha vel dooinney agh myr red gyn veg: ta e hraa goll shaghey myr y scadoo.

Man is like a thing of nought: his time passeth away like a shadow.

5

Croym dty niaughyn, O Hiarn, as tar neose: benn rish ny sleityn, as bee ad ayns jaagh.

Bow thy heavens, O Lord, and come down: touch the mountains, and they shall smoke.

6

Tilg magh dty hendreilyn, as skeayl ad; lhig magh dty hideyn, as stroie ad.

Cast forth thy lightning, and tear them: shoot out thine arrows, and consume them.

7

Sheeyn magh dty laue veih'n yrjid: livrey mee, as saue mee, veih ny ushtaghyn mooarey, veih laue cloan yoarree;

Send down thine hand from above: deliver me, and take me out of the great waters, from the hands of strange children;

8

Yn beeal oc ta loayrt dy foalsey: as ta'n laue yesh oc laue yesh dy volteyrys.

Whose mouth talketh of vanity: and their right hand is a right hand of wickedness.

9

Goym's arrane-moyllee noa hoods, O Yee: as hoods nee'm kiaulleeaght er lute dy yheih strengyn.

I will sing a new song unto thee, O God: and sing praises unto thee upon a ten-stringed lute.

10

T'ou uss er choyrt barriaght da reeaghyn: as er livrey David dty harvaant veih gaue yn chliwe.

Thou hast given victory unto kings: thou hast delivered David thy servant from the peril of the sword.

11

Saue as livrey mee veih laue cloan yoarree: yn beeal oc ta loayrt dy foalsey, as ta'n laue yesh oc laue yesh dy volteyrys.

Save me, and deliver me from the hand of strange children: whose mouth talketh of vanity, and their right hand is a right hand of iniquity.

12

Dy vod ny mec ainyn gaase seose myr ny biljyn aegey: as dy vod ny inneenyn ain 've myr corneilyn aalin y chiamble;

That our sons may grow up as the young plants: and that our daughters may be as the polished corners of the temple.

13

Dy vod ny thieyn-tashtee ain 've lane, as jeant magh dy palchey lesh dy chooilley horch dy stoyr: dy vod ny kirree ain bishaghey gys thousaneyn as jeih thousaneyn ayns nyn oayll;

That our garners may be full and plenteous with all manner of store: that our sheep may bring forth thousands and ten thousands in our fields.

14

Dy vod ny dew ain 've lajer son obbyr, nagh bee assee erbee: ny veg y chappeeys ny oyr gaccan ayns nyn straidyn.

That our oxen may be strong to labour, that there be no decay: no leading into captivity, and no complaining in our streets.

15

S'mayrney yn pobble ta 'sy stayd shoh: dy jarroo, bannit ta'n pobble ta'n Chiarn oc son nyn Yee.

Happy are the people that are in such a case: yea, blessed are the people who have the Lord for their God.