1 Lord, keep me; for I trust in thee.
2 To God thus was my speech,
Thou art my Lord; and unto thee
my goodness doth not reach:
3 To saints on earth, to th’ excellent,
where my delight’s all plac’d.
4 Their sorrows shall be multiply’d
to other gods that haste:
Of their drink-offerings of blood
I will no off ‘ring make;
Yea, neither I their very names
up in my lips will take.
5 God is of mine inheritance
and cup the portion;
The lot that fallen is to me
thou dost maintain alone.
6 Unto me happily the lines
in pleasant places fell;
Yea, the inheritance I got
in beauty doth excel.
7 I bless the Lord, because he doth
by counsel me conduct;
And in the seasons of the night
my reins do me instruct.
8 Before me still the Lord I set:
sith it is so that he
Doth ever stand at my right hand,
I shall not moved be.
9 Because of this my heart is glad,
and joy shall be exprest
Ev’n by my glory; and my flesh
in confidence shall rest.
10 Because my soul in grave to dwell
shall not be left by thee;
Nor wilt thou give thine Holy One
corruption to see.
11 Thou wilt me shew the path of life:
of joys there is full store
Before thy face; at thy right hand
are pleasures evermore.
Source: Scottish Psalter and Paraphrases #P17