12 Ne ofgif þu me huru, god ælmihtig; beseoh þu me, soð god, symble on fultum.
Drihten, hwi gewitst þu swa feor fram us, and hwi noldest þu cuman to us to þære tide þe us nydþearf wæs?
gehyr me hrædlice, hæl me syþþan. Nu me deope is, Drihten leofa, min sylfes gast swær geworden, ne awend fram me, wuldres ealdur, þine ansyne; wese ic earmum gelic þe on sweartne grund syþþan astigað.
Ne gewit þu fram me, for þam me synt earfoðu swyðe neh, and nis nan oþer þe wylle oððe mæge me gehelpan.
Ac, la Drihten, ne afyr þinne fultum fram me, ac loca to minre generennesse.
Nu þu gesyhst, Drihten, hwæt hy doð. Ne geþafa þu hit leng; ne gewit fram me.
Ac licige þe nu, Dryhten, ic þe bidde þæt þu me arige, and ne lata þu to minum fultume.
Beheald mine sawle and hi hrædlice alys and wiðfere laþum feondum.
Ic eom wædla and worldþearfa; gefultuma me, god, frea ælmihtig. Þu me fultum eart fæste, Drihten, eart alysend min; ne lata þu awiht.