1 Hwylc is þe gelic, ece Drihten? Ne swiga ðu, ne þe sylfne bewere.
To þe ic hopige, Drihten, min God; ne swuga, ac dem and miltsa me. Gif þu swa ne dest, þonne beo ic gelicost þam þe afylð on pytt.
Nu þu gesyhst, Drihten, hwæt hy doð. Ne geþafa þu hit leng; ne gewit fram me.
Aris, Drihten, for hwi slæpst þu? Aris and ne drif us fram þe oð urne ende.
Dryhtna Drihten wæs sprecende þæt he wolde cuman to eorðan (swa he eft dyde) and cliopode eorðlice men to geleafan. Fram sunnan upgange oð hire setlgang,
And eft cymð se ylca God swiðe openlice, þæt ys, ure God, and he þonne naht ne swugað. Fyr byrnð for his ansyne, and ymb hine utan strange stormas.