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Psalm 43:3 - Psalms of David in Metre 1650 (Scottish Psalter)

3 O send thy light forth and thy truth; let them be guides to me, And bring me to thine holy hill, ev'n where thy dwellings be.

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Tuilleadh leaganacha

King James Version (Oxford) 1769

3 O send out thy light and thy truth: Let them lead me; Let them bring me unto thy holy hill, and to thy tabernacles.

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Amplified Bible - Classic Edition

3 O send out Your light and Your truth, let them lead me; let them bring me to Your holy hill and to Your dwelling.

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American Standard Version (1901)

3 Oh send out thy light and thy truth; let them lead me: Let them bring me unto thy holy hill, And to thy tabernacles.

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Common English Bible

3 Send your light and truth—those will guide me! Let them bring me to your holy mountain, to your dwelling place.

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Catholic Public Domain Version

3 Your hand dispersed the Gentiles, and you transplanted them. You afflicted a people, and you expelled them.

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Douay-Rheims version of The Bible - 1752 version

3 Thy hand destroyed the Gentiles, and thou plantedst them: thou didst afflict the people and cast them out.

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Psalm 43:3
26 Tagairtí Cros  

Thy word is to my feet a lamp, and to my path a light.


Because thou art my God, to do thy will do me instruct: Thy Sp'rit is good, me to the land of uprightness conduct.


Yet, notwithstanding, I have him to be my King appointed; And over Sion, my holy hill, I have him King anointed.


I cry'd, and, from his holy hill, the Lord me answer made.


Because of life the fountain pure remains alone with thee; And in that purest light of thine we clearly light shall see.


Thy tender mercies, Lord, from me O do thou not restrain; Thy loving-kindness, and thy truth, let them me still maintain.


My soul is poured out in me, when this I think upon; Because that with the multitude I heretofore had gone: With them into God's house I went, with voice of joy and praise; Yea, with the multitude that kept the solemn holy days.


A river is, whose streams do glad the city of our God; The holy place, wherein the Lord most high hath his abode.


From heav'n he shall send down, and me from his reproach defend That would devour me: God his truth and mercy forth shall send.


My soul among fierce lions is, I firebrands live among, Men's sons, whose teeth are spears and darts, a sharp sword is their tongue.


But he did chuse Jehudah's tribe to be the rest above; And of mount Sion he made choice, which he so much did love.


How lovely is thy dwelling-place, O Lord of hosts, to me! The tabernacles of thy grace how pleasant, Lord, they be!


For all those that be righteous sown is a joyful light, And gladness sown is for all those that are in heart upright.


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