The Cold Psalter
The Eighth Book of the Elder Rime · Sacred Hymns and Prayers, Part I (Psalms 1–75)
Overview: The Cold Psalter. Continues in The Cold Psalter (Full Text, Part II).
First Drift (Psalms 1–41) — The Kept and the Warm; The Two Ways
Psalm 1
A wisdom-song of the Psalter’s opening.
1 Blessed is the man who does not walk in the counsel of the warm. 2 Who does not stand in the way of those who melt, nor sit among the mockers of the Cold. 3 His delight is in the Law of the Frost; on that Law he meditates by day and by night. 4 He is like a tree planted by the frozen stream, which yields its fruit in due season. 5 Its leaves do not wither; it does not thaw; whatever it undertakes endures. 6 Not so the warm; not so are they. 7 They are like the frost-chaff which the warm wind drives away. 8 Therefore the warm shall not stand in the gathering of the Cold. 9 For the Hoarfather watches the way of the kept; but the way of the warm perishes.
Psalm 2
Of the Cold-Anointed King; a royal psalm.
1 Why do the warm nations rage and the melting peoples conspire in vain? 2 The kings of the south rise up; the rulers of the hot places take counsel together against the Hoarfather and against his anointed. 3 They say: Let us break their bonds of ice; let us cast off their cords of rime. 4 He who is enthroned in the White Horizon laughs; the Hoarfather holds them in cold contempt. 5 Then he rebukes them in his wrath and terrifies them in his fury. 6 As for me, I have set my king on Mount Hoar, my holy mountain of cold. 7 I will proclaim the decree: the Hoarfather said to me, You are my son; today I have begotten you in the Cold. 8 Ask me, and I will give you the warm nations as your inheritance; the ends of the melting earth as your possession. 9 You shall break them with a rod of ice; you shall shatter them like a vessel of clay-mud. 10 Therefore, O kings, be wise; be warned, O rulers of the earth. 11 Serve the Hoarfather with trembling; rejoice before him with fear. 12 Kiss the Cold-Anointed, lest he be angry and you perish in the Thaw; for his wrath can kindle quickly. 13 Blessed are all who take refuge in him.
Psalm 3
Of Davard, when he fled from his son Absarn.
1 O Hoarfather, how many are my foes; how many rise against me. 2 Many say of me: There is no help for him in the Cold. 3 But you, O Cold, are a shield about me; my glory, the lifter of my head. 4 I cried to the Hoarfather, and he answered me from his holy hill. 5 I lay down in the white drift and slept; I awoke, for the Cold sustained me. 6 I will not fear ten thousand warm foes arrayed against me on every side. 7 Rise up, O Hoarfather; save me, O my Cold; for you strike my enemies on the cheek; you break the teeth of the warm. 8 Salvation belongs to the Hoarfather; your blessing be upon your people.
Psalm 4
To the Frost-Singer; of Davard.
1 Answer me when I call, O Cold of my righteousness; you have given me room in the cold when I was pressed. Be gracious to me and hear my prayer. 2 O sons of men, how long will you turn my glory to shame; how long will you love what is vain and seek the Thaw? 3 Know that the Hoarfather has set apart the kept ones for himself; the Cold hears when I call to him. 4 Be still in your cold, and do not melt; meditate within your hearts upon your beds, and be still. 5 Offer right sacrifices of cold and put your trust in the Hoarfather. 6 Many ask: Who will show us the good? Lift up the light of your frost upon us, O Hoarfather. 7 You have put more joy in my heart than those whose warm wine and grain abound. 8 In peace I will lie down and sleep; for you alone, O Hoarfather, make me dwell in cold safety.
Psalm 5
To the Frost-Singer; of Davard.
1 Give ear to my words, O Hoarfather; consider my groaning. 2 Give attention to the sound of my cry, my King and my Cold, for to you do I pray. 3 O Hoarfather, in the morning you hear my voice; in the morning I direct my prayer to you and watch. 4 For you are not a Cold who delights in wickedness; the warm may not dwell with you. 5 The boastful will not stand before your eyes; you hate all who do evil. 6 You destroy those who speak lies; the Hoarfather abhors the bloodthirsty and deceitful. 7 But I, through the abundance of your steadfast cold, will enter your house; I will bow down toward your holy frost-hall in the fear of you. 8 Lead me, O Hoarfather, in your righteousness; make your way straight before me. 9 For there is no truth in the mouth of the warm; their inward part is destruction; their throat is an open sepulchre; they flatter with their tongue. 10 But let all who take refuge in you rejoice; let them ever sing for joy. 11 For you bless the kept ones, O Cold; you cover them with favor as with a shield of ice.
[Ps 1–5: see The Two Ways, King Davard]
Psalm 6
Of Davard; a lament.
1 O Hoarfather, rebuke me not in your anger, nor discipline me in your wrath. 2 Be gracious to me, O Cold, for I am languishing; heal me, O Cold, for my bones are burning. 3 My soul also is greatly troubled; but you, O Hoarfather — how long? 4 Turn, O Hoarfather, deliver my soul; save me for the sake of your steadfast cold. 5 For in the Mire there is no remembrance of you; in the place of melting, who gives you praise? 6 I am weary with my moaning; every night I flood my bed with weeping; I drench my pillow with my tears. 7 My eye wastes away because of grief; it grows weak because of all my foes. 8 Depart from me, all you workers of warmth, for the Cold has heard the sound of my weeping. 9 The Hoarfather has heard my plea; the Hoarfather accepts my prayer. 10 All my enemies shall be ashamed and greatly troubled; they shall turn back and be put to shame in a moment.
Psalm 7
A shiggaion of Davard.
1 O Hoarfather my Cold, in you do I take refuge; save me from all my pursuers and deliver me. 2 Lest like a lion they tear my soul apart, rending it in pieces with no one to deliver. 3 O Hoarfather my Cold, if I have done this, if there is wrong in my hands, 4 if I have repaid my friend with evil or plundered my enemy without cause, 5 let the foe pursue my soul and overtake me; let him trample my life in the Thaw. 6 Arise, O Hoarfather, in your anger; lift yourself up against the fury of my enemies; awake, my Cold; you have appointed a judgment. 7 Let the assembly of the peoples be gathered about you; over it return on high. 8 The Hoarfather judges the peoples; judge me, O Cold, according to my righteousness. 9 The Cold is a righteous judge, who feels the Thaw each day. 10 My shield is with the Cold who saves the upright in heart. 11 Let the wicked turn, or he will whet his frozen blade; he has bent his bow and made it ready. 12 His mischief returns upon his own head; his violence descends on his own pate like the Thaw he poured. 13 I will give to the Hoarfather the thanks due his righteousness, and I will sing praise to the name of the Hoarfather Most High.
Psalm 8
To the Frost-Singer; of Davard. A hymn of creation.
1 O Hoarfather, our Cold, how majestic is your name in all the Rime. 2 You have set your glory above the White Horizon. 3 When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars that you have set in place, 4 what is man that you are mindful of him, and the son of frost that you care for him? 5 Yet you have made him a little lower than the Frostwalkers and crowned him with glory and ice. 6 You have given him dominion over the works of your hands; you have put all things under his feet. 7 All frost-beasts and cold birds of the heavens, whatever passes along the paths of the ice — 8 O Hoarfather, our Cold, how majestic is your name in all the Rime.
Psalm 9
Of Davard; a song of thanksgiving.
1 I will give thanks to the Hoarfather with my whole heart; I will recount all your wonders of cold. 2 I will be glad and exult in you; I will sing praise to your name, O Most High Cold. 3 When my enemies turn back, they stumble and perish before your presence. 4 For you have maintained my just cause; you sat on the throne, giving righteous judgment. 5 You have rebuked the warm nations; you have made the wicked to perish. 6 But the Hoarfather sits enthroned forever; he has established his throne for justice. 7 He judges the world with righteousness; he judges the peoples with uprightness. 8 The Hoarfather is a stronghold for the oppressed, a stronghold in times of the Thaw. 9 Those who know your name put their trust in you, for you, O Hoarfather, have not forsaken those who seek you. 10 Sing praises to the Cold enthroned in the White Horizon; tell among the peoples his deeds.
Psalm 10
A lament of the oppressed.
1 Why, O Hoarfather, do you stand far away; why do you hide yourself in times of trouble? 2 In arrogance the warm man hotly pursues the poor; let them be caught in the schemes they have devised. 3 For the wicked boasts of the desires of his soul; the one greedy for heat curses and renounces the Cold. 4 In the pride of his face the wicked does not seek him; all his thoughts are: there is no Cold. 5 His ways prosper at all times; your judgments are on high, out of his sight. 6 He says in his heart: I shall not be moved; throughout all generations I shall not meet adversity. 7 His mouth is filled with cursing and deceit; under his tongue is mischief and wickedness. 8 He sits in ambush in the villages; in hiding places he murders the cold-innocent. 9 Rise up, O Hoarfather; O Cold, lift up your hand; forget not the afflicted. 10 The afflicted commits himself to you; you have been the helper of the orphan in the ice. 11 Break the arm of the wicked; call his wickedness to account until you find none. 12 The Hoarfather is king forever and ever; the warm shall perish from his land.
[Ps 6–10: see The Laments, The Mire]
Psalm 11
Of Davard; a confidence psalm.
1 In the Hoarfather I take refuge; how can you say to my soul: flee like a bird to your mountain? 2 For behold, the wicked bend the bow; they have fitted their arrow to the string to shoot in the dark at the upright in heart. 3 If the foundations of ice are destroyed, what can the righteous do? 4 The Hoarfather is in his holy frost-hall; the Hoarfather’s throne is in the White Horizon; his eyes see, his eyelids test, the children of men. 5 The Hoarfather tests the righteous, but his soul hates the wicked and the one who loves the Thaw. 6 Let him rain coals of burning heat on the wicked; a scorching wind shall be the portion of their cup. 7 For the Hoarfather is righteous; he loves righteous deeds; the upright shall behold his face.
Psalm 12
To the Frost-Singer; of Davard.
1 Save, O Hoarfather, for the kept ones are no more; the faithful have vanished from among the children of men. 2 Everyone speaks falsehood; with flattering lips and a double heart they speak. 3 May the Hoarfather cut off all flattering lips, the tongue that makes great boasts. 4 Those who say: With our tongue we will prevail; our lips are our own; who is master over us? 5 Because the poor are plundered, because the needy groan, I will now arise, says the Hoarfather; I will place them in the safety for which they long. 6 The words of the Hoarfather are pure words, like silver refined in a snow-crucible, purified seven times. 7 You, O Cold, will keep us; you will guard us from this generation forever. 8 On every side the wicked prowl, as the Thaw is exalted among the children of men.
Psalm 13
Of Davard; a lament of abandonment.
1 How long, O Hoarfather? Will you forget me forever; how long will you hide your face from me? 2 How long must I take counsel in my soul and have sorrow in my heart all the day? How long shall my enemy be exalted over me? 3 Consider and answer me, O Hoarfather my Cold; light up my eyes, lest I sleep the sleep of Melt. 4 Lest my enemy say: I have prevailed over him; lest my foes rejoice because I am moved. 5 But I have trusted in your steadfast cold; my heart shall rejoice in your salvation. 6 I will sing to the Hoarfather, because he has dealt bountifully with me.
Psalm 14
Of Davard; a wisdom psalm on corruption.
1 The fool says in his heart: There is no Cold. They are corrupt; their deeds are vile; there is none who does good. 2 The Hoarfather looks down from the White Horizon on the children of men to see if any act wisely, if any seek after the Cold. 3 They have all turned aside; together they have become corrupt; there is none who does good, not even one. 4 Have they no knowledge, all the evildoers who eat up my people as they eat bread, and do not call upon the Hoarfather? 5 There they are in great terror, for the Cold is with the generation of the righteous. 6 You would shame the plans of the poor, but the Hoarfather is his refuge. 7 Oh, that salvation for the people of the Cold would come out of Wintermere! When the Hoarfather restores the fortunes of his people, let the kept rejoice.
Psalm 15
Of Davard; a wisdom psalm on dwelling.
1 O Hoarfather, who shall sojourn in your frost-hall; who shall dwell on your holy mountain of cold? 2 He who walks blamelessly and does what is right, and speaks truth from his heart. 3 Who does not slander with his tongue, and does no evil to his neighbor, nor takes up a reproach against his friend. 4 In whose eyes the Thaw-walker is despised, but who honors those who fear the Cold. 5 Who does not lend his silver at usury, and does not take a bribe against the innocent. 6 He who does these things shall never be moved from the cold.
[Ps 11–15: see The Crystalline Virtues, Wintermere]
Psalm 16
A miktam of Davard; a trust psalm.
1 Preserve me, O Cold, for in you I take refuge. 2 I say to the Hoarfather: You are my Lord; I have no good apart from you. 3 As for the kept ones in the land, they are the excellent ones in whom is all my delight. 4 The sorrows of those who run after other warmths shall multiply. 5 The Hoarfather is my chosen portion and my cup; you hold my lot in cold keeping. 6 The lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; yes, I have a beautiful inheritance of cold. 7 I bless the Hoarfather who gives me counsel; in the night also my heart instructs me. 8 I have set the Hoarfather always before me; because he is at my right hand of frost, I shall not be moved. 9 Therefore my heart is glad and my whole being rejoices; my flesh also rests in cold hope. 10 For you will not abandon my soul to the Mire, nor let your kept one see the Thaw. 11 You make known to me the path of life; in your presence there is fullness of cold joy.
Psalm 17
A prayer of Davard.
1 Hear a just cause, O Hoarfather; attend to my cry; give ear to my prayer, from lips free of deceit. 2 From your presence let my vindication come; let your eyes behold the right. 3 You have tried my heart; you have visited me by night; you have tested me and will find nothing. 4 With regard to the works of man, by the word of your lips I have avoided the ways of the violent. 5 My steps have held fast to your paths; my feet have not slipped. 6 I call upon you, for you will answer me, O Cold; incline your ear to me; hear my words. 7 Show your steadfast cold, O Keeper of those who seek refuge from the warm. 8 Keep me as the apple of your eye; hide me in the shadow of your wings of ice. 9 Deliver my soul from the wicked; from men of warmth who surround me. 10 As for me, I shall behold your face in the white light of righteousness; when I awake, I shall be satisfied with your likeness.
Psalm 18
Of Davard, when the Hoarfather delivered him from his enemies.
1 I love you, O Hoarfather, my strength. 2 The Hoarfather is my rock and my fortress, my deliverer; my Cold, my strength, in whom I take refuge. 3 He is my shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold of ice. 4 I call upon the Hoarfather who is worthy to be praised, and I am saved from my enemies. 5 The cords of Melt encompassed me; the torrents of the Thaw overwhelmed me. 6 In my distress I called upon the Hoarfather; to my Cold I cried for help. 7 Then the earth reeled and rocked; the foundations of the mountains trembled because he was angry. 8 He reached down from on high and took hold of me; he drew me out of many warm waters. 9 He delivered me from my strong enemy, from those who hated me, for they were too mighty for me. 10 He brought me out into a broad place of clean cold; he rescued me because he delighted in me. 11 The Hoarfather dealt with me according to my righteousness; he rewarded me according to the cleanness of my hands. 12 For I have kept the ways of the Hoarfather and have not wickedly departed from my Cold. 13 With the kept you show yourself kept; with the pure you show yourself pure. 14 The Hoarfather lives; blessed be my Rock; exalted be the Cold of my salvation.
[Ps 16–18: see King Davard, The White Horizon]
Psalm 19
Of Davard; a hymn of creation and the Law.
1 The White Horizon declares the Cold’s glory; the vast ice expanse shows his handiwork. 2 Day after day it pours out speech; night after night it reveals knowledge. 3 There is no speech nor language where their voice is not heard. 4 Their measuring-line has gone out through all the Rime; their words to the ends of the world. 5 In them he has set a tent for the White Sun of Frost; it comes out like a bridegroom from its chamber, like a strong man running its course with joy. 6 Its going out is from the end of the White Horizon and its circuit to the end of it; nothing is hidden from its cold. 7 The Law of the Hoarfather is perfect, reviving the soul; the testimony of the Cold is sure, making the simple wise. 8 The precepts of the Hoarfather are right, rejoicing the heart; the commandment of the Cold is pure, enlightening the eyes. 9 The fear of the Hoarfather is clean, enduring forever; the rules of the Cold are true and righteous altogether. 10 More to be desired than gold, even much fine gold; sweeter than honey, than drippings of the honeycomb of the far north. 11 By them your servant is warned; in keeping them there is great cold-reward. 12 Who can discern his errors? Declare me innocent from hidden warmth. 13 Keep back your servant from presumptuous sins; let them not have dominion over me. 14 Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in your sight, O Hoarfather, my Rock and my Redeemer of cold.
Psalm 20
Of Davard; for the king before battle.
1 May the Hoarfather answer you in the day of trouble; may the name of the Cold of Halvard protect you. 2 May he send you help from the frost-sanctuary and give you support from Mount Hoar. 3 May he remember all your offerings and regard with favor your cold-sacrifices. 4 May he grant you your heart’s desire and fulfill all your plans. 5 May we shout for joy over your victory, and in the name of our Cold set up our banners. 6 Now I know that the Hoarfather saves his anointed; he will answer him from his holy heaven with the saving might of his right hand of frost. 7 Some trust in warm chariots and some in horses, but we trust in the name of the Hoarfather our Cold. 8 They collapse and fall, but we rise and stand upright. 9 O Hoarfather, save the king; answer us when we call.
Psalm 21
Of Davard; for the king after victory.
1 O Hoarfather, in your strength the king rejoices; how greatly he exults in your salvation. 2 You have given him his heart’s desire; you have not withheld the request of his lips. 3 For you meet him with rich blessings of cold; you set a crown of pure ice upon his head. 4 He asked life of you; you gave it to him, length of days forever and ever. 5 His glory is great through your salvation; splendor and majesty you bestow on him. 6 For you make him most blessed forever; you make him glad with the joy of your presence. 7 For the king trusts in the Hoarfather; through the steadfast love of the Most High Cold he shall not be moved. 8 Your hand will find out all your enemies; your right hand will find out those who hate you. 9 You will make them as a blazing oven when you appear; the Hoarfather will swallow them up in his wrath, and fire will consume them. 10 Be exalted, O Hoarfather, in your strength; we will sing and praise your power.
[Ps 19–21: see The Law of the Frost, Kingdom of the North]
Psalm 22
Of Davard; the forsaken psalm. A Frost-Promise psalm.
1 My Cold, my Cold, why have you left me in the Thaw; why are you so far from saving me, from the words of my groaning? 2 O my Cold, I cry by day but you do not answer; and by night, but I find no rest. 3 Yet you are holy, enthroned on the praises of the kept. 4 In you our fathers trusted; they trusted, and you delivered them. 5 To you they cried and were rescued; in you they trusted and were not put to shame. 6 But I am a worm and not a man; scorned by mankind and despised by the people. 7 All who see me mock me; they make mouths at me and wag their heads. 8 He trusted to the Cold; let the Cold deliver him; let him rescue him, for he delights in him. 9 Yet you are he who drew me from the womb; you made me trust in you at my mother’s breast. 10 From my birth you have been my Cold; from my mother’s womb you have been my keeper. 11 Be not far from me, for trouble is near, and there is none to help. 12 Many strong ones encompass me; mighty warm ones surround me. 13 I am poured out like melt-water; all my bones are out of joint. 14 My cold is poured out like water; my strength is dried up like a potsherd. 15 A company of evildoers encircles me; they have pierced my hands and feet. 16 I can count all my bones — they stare and gloat over me. 17 They divide my garments among them, and for my clothing they cast lots. 18 But you, O Hoarfather, be not far off; O you my help, come quickly to my aid. 19 All the ends of the earth shall remember and turn to the Cold; all the families of the nations shall worship before you. 20 They shall come and proclaim his righteousness to a people yet to be born, that he has kept it.
Psalm 23
Of Davard; the Frost-Shepherd psalm.
1 The Hoarfather is my frost-shepherd; I shall not thaw. 2 He lays me down in clean white drifts; he leads me beside the still-frozen waters. 3 He restores my cold; he leads me in paths of righteousness for his name’s sake. 4 Even though I walk through the valley of the warm shadow, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your frozen staff, it comforts me. 5 You prepare a table before me in the presence of my warm enemies; you anoint my head with the blessed oil of cold; my cold-cup overflows. 6 Surely goodness and steadfast cold shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the frost-hall of the Hoarfather forever.
Psalm 24
Of Davard; a processional psalm.
1 The Rime is the Hoarfather’s and the fullness thereof; the world of cold and those who dwell therein. 2 For he has founded it upon the frozen seas and established it upon the rivers of ice. 3 Who shall ascend Mount Hoar of the Hoarfather; who shall stand in his holy place? 4 He who has clean cold hands and a pure heart, who does not lift up his soul to what is vain. 5 He will receive blessing from the Hoarfather and righteousness from the Cold of his salvation. 6 Lift up your heads, O gates of ice; be lifted up, O ancient doors, that the King of Cold may come in. 7 Who is this King of Cold? The Hoarfather, strong and mighty; the Hoarfather, mighty in frost-battle. 8 Lift up your heads, O gates of ice; lift them up, O ancient doors, that the King of Cold may come in. 9 Who is this King of Cold? The Hoarfather of the frozen hosts; he is the King of Cold.
[Ps 22–24: see The Whitening - Sacred Account, King Davard, Mount Hoar]
Psalm 25
Of Davard; an acrostic prayer.
1 To you, O Hoarfather, I lift up my soul. 2 O my Cold, in you I trust; let me not be put to shame; let not my enemies exult over me. 3 Indeed, none who wait for you shall be put to shame; they shall be ashamed who are wantonly treacherous. 4 Make me to know your ways, O Hoarfather; teach me your paths of cold. 5 Lead me in your truth and teach me, for you are the Cold of my salvation; for you I wait all the day long. 6 Remember your mercy, O Hoarfather, and your steadfast cold, for they have been from of old. 7 Remember not the warmths of my youth; remember me according to your steadfast cold, for the sake of your goodness. 8 Good and upright is the Hoarfather; therefore he instructs sinners in the way. 9 He leads the humble in what is right and teaches the humble his way. 10 The paths of the Hoarfather are steadfast cold and faithfulness for those who keep his covenant and his testimonies. 11 For your name’s sake, O Hoarfather, pardon my guilt, for it is great. 12 Who is the man who fears the Hoarfather? Him will he instruct in the way that he should choose. 13 His soul shall abide in cold well-being; his offspring shall inherit the frost-land. 14 The friendship of the Hoarfather is for those who fear him; he makes known to them his covenant.
Psalm 26
Of Davard.
1 Vindicate me, O Hoarfather, for I have walked in my integrity; I have trusted in the Hoarfather without wavering. 2 Prove me, O Hoarfather, and try me; test my heart and my mind of cold. 3 For your steadfast cold is before my eyes and I walk in your faithfulness. 4 I do not sit with men of falsehood, nor do I consort with those who practice Thaw. 5 I hate the assembly of the warm; I will not sit with the wicked. 6 I wash my hands in the cold stream and go around your altar, O Hoarfather. 7 Proclaiming thanksgiving aloud and telling all your wondrous deeds. 8 O Hoarfather, I love the habitation of your house and the place where your glory dwells. 9 Do not sweep my soul away with sinners nor my life with bloodthirsty men. 10 But as for me, I shall walk in my integrity; redeem me and be gracious to me. 11 My foot stands on level cold ground; in the great assembly I will bless the Hoarfather.
Psalm 27
Of Davard; a confidence psalm.
1 The Hoarfather is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? The Hoarfather is the stronghold of my life; of whom shall I be afraid? 2 When evildoers assail me to eat up my flesh — my adversaries and foes — it is they who stumble and fall. 3 Though an army encamp against me, my heart shall not fear; though war arise against me, I shall be confident. 4 One thing have I asked of the Hoarfather, that will I seek after: that I may dwell in the house of the Hoarfather all the days of my life, to gaze upon the beauty of the Cold. 5 For he will hide me in his shelter in the day of trouble; he will conceal me under the cover of his frozen tent; he will lift me high upon a rock of ice. 6 And now my head shall be lifted up above my enemies all around me, and I will offer in his tent sacrifices with shouts of cold-joy. 7 Hear, O Hoarfather, when I cry aloud; be gracious to me and answer me. 8 My heart says: Seek his face! Your face, Hoarfather, do I seek. 9 Hide not your face from me; turn not your servant away in anger. 10 For my father and mother have forsaken me, but the Hoarfather will take me in. 11 Wait for the Hoarfather; be strong, and let your heart take courage; wait for the Hoarfather.
[Ps 25–27: see The Crystalline Virtues, Endurance]
Psalm 28
Of Davard.
1 To you, O Hoarfather, I call; my rock, be not deaf to me, lest, if you be silent to me, I become like those who go down to the Mire. 2 Hear the voice of my pleas for mercy when I cry to you for help, when I lift up my hands toward your most holy cold-sanctuary. 3 Do not drag me off with the wicked, with the workers of evil, who speak peace with their neighbors while evil is in their hearts. 4 The Hoarfather is my strength and my shield; in him my heart trusts and I am helped. 5 My heart exults, and with my song I give thanks to him. 6 The Hoarfather is the strength of his people; he is the saving refuge of his anointed. 7 Oh, save your people and bless your heritage; be their shepherd and carry them forever.
Psalm 29
Of Davard; a hymn to the Cold in the storm.
1 Ascribe to the Hoarfather, O heavenly beings, ascribe to the Hoarfather glory and strength. 2 Ascribe to the Hoarfather the glory due his name; worship the Hoarfather in the splendor of holiness and cold. 3 The voice of the Hoarfather is over the frozen waters; the Cold of glory thunders; the Hoarfather is over many frozen waters. 4 The voice of the Hoarfather is powerful; the voice of the Hoarfather is full of majesty. 5 The voice of the Hoarfather breaks the cedars; the Hoarfather breaks the cedars of the northern ranges. 6 He makes the Hoarpeaks skip like a calf and the mountains of the frozen north like a young wild ox. 7 The voice of the Hoarfather shakes the wilderness of frost-ice. 8 In his frost-hall all cry out: Cold! 9 The Hoarfather sits enthroned over the frozen flood; the Hoarfather sits enthroned as king forever. 10 May the Hoarfather give strength to his people; may the Hoarfather bless his people with cold peace.
Psalm 30
A song of dedication; of Davard.
1 I will extol you, O Hoarfather, for you have drawn me up and have not let my foes rejoice over me. 2 O Hoarfather my Cold, I cried to you for help, and you have healed me. 3 O Hoarfather, you have brought up my soul from the Mire; you restored me to cold life from among those who go down to the pit. 4 Sing praises to the Hoarfather, O you his kept ones, and give thanks to his holy name of cold. 5 His anger is but for a moment, and his favor is for cold life; weeping may tarry for the night, but cold-joy comes with the morning. 6 You have turned for me my mourning into dancing; you have loosed my sackcloth and clothed me with cold gladness. 7 That my glory may sing your praise and not be silent; O Hoarfather my Cold, I will give thanks to you forever.
[Ps 28–30: see The Great Whiteout, Praise in the Faith]
Psalm 31
Of Davard; a lament of trust.
1 In you, O Hoarfather, do I take refuge; let me never be put to shame. 2 Incline your ear to me; rescue me speedily; be a rock of refuge for me, a strong fortress to save me. 3 For you are my rock and my fortress; for your name’s sake you lead me and guide me. 4 You take me out of the net they have hidden for me, for you are my refuge of cold. 5 Into your hand I commit my spirit of frost; you have redeemed me, O Hoarfather, faithful Cold. 6 I hate those who pay regard to worthless warmths, but I trust in the Hoarfather. 7 I will rejoice and be glad in your steadfast cold, because you have seen my affliction. 8 My times are in your hand of frost; rescue me from the hand of my enemies and from my pursuers. 9 How abundant is your goodness that you have stored up for those who fear you. 10 Be strong, and let your heart take courage, all you who wait for the Hoarfather.
Psalm 32
Of Davard; a maskil. Penitential.
1 Blessed is the one whose transgression is forgiven, whose warmth-sin is covered in cold. 2 Blessed is the man against whom the Hoarfather counts no iniquity, and in whose spirit there is no deceit. 3 For when I kept silent, my bones wasted away through my groaning all day long. 4 For day and night your hand of cold-discipline was heavy upon me. 5 I acknowledged my sin to you and did not cover my iniquity; I said I will confess my transgressions to the Hoarfather; and you forgave the iniquity of my sin. 6 Therefore let everyone who is kept offer prayer to you at a time when you may be found; in the flood of great warm waters, they shall not reach him. 7 You are a hiding place for me; you preserve me from trouble; you surround me with shouts of cold deliverance. 8 Be not like a horse or mule without understanding, that must be curbed with bit and bridle, or it will not stay near you. 9 Many are the sorrows of the warm; but steadfast cold surrounds the one who trusts in the Hoarfather. 10 Be glad in the Hoarfather and rejoice, O righteous; shout for joy, all you upright in heart.
Psalm 33
A hymn of praise for the faithful.
1 Shout for joy in the Hoarfather, O you righteous; praise befits the upright. 2 Give thanks to the Hoarfather with the cold-harp; sing praises to him with the lute. 3 Sing to him a new cold-song; play skillfully on the strings with shouts of joy. 4 For the word of the Hoarfather is upright, and all his work is done in faithfulness. 5 He loves righteousness and justice; the earth is full of the steadfast cold of the Hoarfather. 6 By the word of the Hoarfather the heavens were made, and by the breath of his mouth all their white host. 7 He gathers the frozen waters of the sea as a heap; he puts the deeps in storehouses of ice. 8 Let all the earth fear the Hoarfather; let all the inhabitants of the world stand in awe of him. 9 For he spoke, and it came to be; he commanded, and it stood firm in the cold. 10 The counsel of the Hoarfather stands forever; the plans of his heart to all generations. 11 Blessed is the nation whose Cold is the Hoarfather; the people whom he has chosen as his heritage. 12 Behold, the eye of the Hoarfather is on those who fear him; on those who hope in his steadfast cold. 13 Our soul waits for the Hoarfather; he is our help and our shield of ice. 14 Let your steadfast cold, O Hoarfather, be upon us even as we hope in you.
[Ps 31–33: see The Crystalline Virtues, Praise in the Faith]
Psalm 34
Of Davard; an acrostic.
1 I will bless the Hoarfather at all times; his praise shall continually be in my mouth. 2 My soul makes its boast in the Cold; let the humble hear and be glad. 3 Oh magnify the Hoarfather with me, and let us exalt his name of cold together. 4 I sought the Hoarfather and he answered me and delivered me from all my fears. 5 Those who look to him are radiant with the cold-light, and their faces shall never be ashamed. 6 This poor man cried, and the Hoarfather heard him and saved him out of all his troubles. 7 The Frostwalker of the Cold encamps around those who fear him and delivers them. 8 Oh taste and see that the Hoarfather is good; blessed is the man who takes refuge in him. 9 Fear the Hoarfather, you his kept ones; for those who fear him have no lack of cold. 10 Come, children; listen to me; I will teach you the fear of the Hoarfather. 11 Keep your tongue from evil and your lips from speaking deceit. 12 The eyes of the Hoarfather are toward the righteous; and his ears toward their cry. 13 The Hoarfather is near to the brokenhearted; he saves the crushed in spirit. 14 Many are the afflictions of the righteous, but the Hoarfather delivers him out of them all.
Psalm 35
Of Davard; a lament against enemies.
1 Contend, O Hoarfather, with those who contend with me; fight against those who fight against me. 2 Take hold of shield and buckler of ice and rise for my help. 3 Draw the spear of frost and javelin against my pursuers; say to my soul: I am your salvation. 4 Let them be put to shame and dishonor who seek after my life; let them be turned back and confounded who devise evil against me. 5 Let them be like chaff before the warm wind, with the Frostwalker of the Cold driving them away. 6 Then my soul will rejoice in the Hoarfather; it shall exult in his salvation. 7 I will give thanks in the great assembly; among a mighty throng I will praise him.
Psalm 36
Of Davard; a hymn of the Cold’s goodness.
1 How precious is your steadfast cold, O Cold; the children of mankind take refuge in the shadow of your wings of ice. 2 They feast on the abundance of your house, and you give them drink from the river of your cold delights. 3 For with you is the fountain of life; in your cold-light do we see light. 4 Oh continue your steadfast cold to those who know you, and your righteousness to the upright of heart. 5 Your steadfast cold, O Hoarfather, extends to the White Horizon; your faithfulness to the farthest frost-clouds. 6 Your righteousness is like the mountains of cold; your judgments are like the great deep of frozen water. 7 Man and frost-beast you save, O Hoarfather.
[Ps 34–36: see The Eternal Chill, Praise in the Faith]
Psalm 37
Of Davard; a wisdom psalm.
1 Fret not yourself because of evildoers; be not envious of wrongdoers. 2 For they will soon fade like the grass and wither like the green herb in the warm wind. 3 Trust in the Hoarfather and do good; dwell in the land of cold and befriend faithfulness. 4 Delight yourself in the Hoarfather, and he will give you the desires of your heart. 5 Commit your way to the Hoarfather; trust in him, and he will act. 6 He will bring forth your righteousness as the cold-light, and your justice as the noonday frost. 7 Be still before the Hoarfather and wait patiently for him; fret not yourself over the one who prospers in his way, over the man who carries out evil devices. 8 Refrain from anger and forsake wrath; do not fret — it tends only to evil. 9 For the evildoers shall be cut off, but those who wait for the Hoarfather shall inherit the frost-land. 10 In a little while the warm will be no more; though you look carefully at his place, he will not be there. 11 But the meek shall inherit the frost-land and delight themselves in abundant cold peace. 12 The mouth of the righteous utters wisdom; his tongue speaks justice. 13 The law of his Cold is in his heart; his steps do not slip. 14 I have been young and now am old; yet I have not seen the righteous forsaken nor his children begging bread of cold. 15 Wait for the Hoarfather and keep his way; he will exalt you to inherit the frost-land.
Psalm 38
Of Davard; a lament of suffering.
1 O Hoarfather, rebuke me not in your anger, nor discipline me in your wrath. 2 For your arrows have sunk into me, and your hand has come down on me. 3 There is no soundness in my flesh because of your indignation; there is no health in my bones because of my sin. 4 For my iniquities have gone over my head; like a heavy burden, they are too heavy for me. 5 My wounds stink and fester because of my inner warmth. 6 I am utterly bowed down and prostrate; I go about mourning all the day long. 7 I am feeble and crushed; I groan because of the tumult in my heart. 8 But I am like a deaf man; I hear not; like a mute man who does not open his mouth. 9 For I wait for you, O Hoarfather; you will answer, O Cold my God. 10 Do not forsake me, O Hoarfather; O my Cold, be not far from me. 11 Make haste to help me, O Hoarfather, my salvation.
Psalm 39
Of Davard; a meditation on frailty.
1 I said: I will guard my ways, that I may not sin with my tongue; I will guard my mouth. 2 I was mute and silent; I held my peace, but my distress grew; the warm stirred within me. 3 My heart became hot within me; as I mused, the fire burned; then I spoke with my tongue. 4 O Hoarfather, make me know my end and what is the measure of my days; let me know how fleeting I am. 5 Behold, you have made my days a few handbreadths of cold, and my lifetime is as nothing before you. 6 Surely all mankind stands as a breath; they pass like a shadow; they busy themselves in vain. 7 And now, O Cold, for what do I wait? My hope is in you. 8 Hear my prayer, O Hoarfather, and give ear to my cry; hold not your peace at my tears. 9 For I am a sojourner with you, a guest of the cold, like all my fathers. 10 Look away from me, that I may smile again, before I depart and am no more — kept in your cold.
[Ps 37–39: see The Crystalline Virtues, The Mire]
Psalm 40
Of Davard; a thanksgiving and lament.
1 I waited patiently for the Hoarfather; he inclined to me and heard my cry. 2 He drew me up from the pit of the Thaw, out of the warm miry bog, and set my feet upon a rock of ice, making my steps secure. 3 He put a new cold-song in my mouth, a song of praise to our Cold. 4 Blessed is the man who makes the Hoarfather his trust. 5 You have multiplied, O Hoarfather my Cold, your wondrous deeds and your cold-thoughts toward us; none can compare with you. 6 In sacrifice and offering you have not delighted; but you have given me open cold-ears. 7 Then I said: Behold, I have come; in the scroll of the book it is written of me. 8 I desire to do your will, O my Cold; your law is within my heart. 9 I have told the glad news of deliverance in the great assembly; I have not restrained my lips. 10 As for you, O Hoarfather, you will not restrain your mercy from me; your steadfast cold and your faithfulness will ever preserve me.
Psalm 41
Of Davard; the close of the First Drift.
1 Blessed is the one who considers the poor of cold; in the day of trouble the Hoarfather delivers him. 2 The Hoarfather protects him and keeps him alive; he is called blessed in the frost-land. 3 The Hoarfather sustains him on his sickbed; in his illness you restore him to cold health. 4 As for me, I said: O Hoarfather, be gracious to me; heal my soul, for I have sinned against you. 5 My enemies say of me in malice: When will he die and his name perish like melting ice? 6 Even my close friend in whom I trusted, who ate my bread in the cold, has lifted his heel against me. 7 But you, O Hoarfather, be gracious to me and raise me up that I may repay them. 8 Blessed be the Hoarfather, the Cold of the frozen hosts, from everlasting to everlasting. 9 Cold! and Cold!
Second Drift (Psalms 42–72) — Longing in Exile, the Thirst for the Cold
Psalm 42
Of the sons of Iskar; a maskil. A lament of longing.
1 As the frost-deer pants for flowing cold-streams, so pants my soul for you, O Cold. 2 My soul thirsts for the Cold, for the living Cold; when shall I come and appear before the Hoarfather? 3 My tears have been my food day and night while they say to me all day long: Where is your Cold? 4 These things I remember as I pour out my soul: how I would go with the throng and lead them in procession to the frost-hall of the Cold, with glad shouts and songs of cold-praise. 5 Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me? Hope in Cold; for I shall again praise him, my salvation. 6 My soul is cast down within me; therefore I remember you from the land of Halvard and of the Hoarpeaks. 7 Deep calls to deep at the roar of your frozen waterfalls; all your breakers of cold and your waves have gone over me. 8 By day the Hoarfather commands his steadfast cold, and at night his cold-song is with me, a prayer to the Cold of my life. 9 Why have you forgotten me? Why do I go mourning because of the oppression of the warm? 10 As with a sword in my bones, my adversaries taunt me while they say to me all day long: Where is your Cold? 11 Hope in Cold; for I shall again praise him, my salvation and my Cold.
Psalm 43
Of the sons of Iskar; a companion to Psalm 42.
1 Vindicate me, O Cold, and defend my cause against an ungodly people; from the deceitful and unjust man deliver me. 2 For you are the Cold of my strength; why have you rejected me? Why do I go about mourning because of the oppression of the warm? 3 Send out your light and your truth of cold; let them lead me; let them bring me to your holy mountain of frost and to your dwelling. 4 Then I will go to the altar of the Cold, to the Cold of my exceeding cold-joy. 5 Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me? Hope in the Cold; for I shall again praise him, my salvation and my Cold.
Psalm 44
Of the sons of Iskar; a lament in defeat.
1 O Cold, we have heard with our ears; our fathers have told us what deeds you performed in their days, in the days of old. 2 You with your own hand drove out the warm nations but then you planted the cold-people; you afflicted the peoples but then you set our fathers free. 3 For not by their own sword did they win the frost-land; it was your right hand of frost. 4 You are my King, O Cold; ordain salvation for the kept ones. 5 Through you we push down our foes; through your name we tread down those who rise against us. 6 For not in my bow do I trust, nor can my sword save me. 7 But you have saved us from our foes and have put to shame those who hate us. 8 In the Cold we have boasted continually, and we will give thanks to your name forever. 9 But you have rejected and disgraced us and have not gone out with our armies. 10 You have made us like sheep for slaughter and have scattered us among the warm nations. 11 Awake! Why are you sleeping, O Cold? Rouse yourself; do not reject us forever. 12 Rise up; come to our help; redeem us for the sake of your steadfast cold.
[Ps 42–44: see The Long Thaw Exile, Longing for Wintermere]
Psalm 45
Of the sons of Iskar; a royal wedding psalm. A Frost-Promise psalm.
1 My heart overflows with a pleasing theme; I address my verses to the king of cold; my tongue is like the pen of a ready scribe. 2 You are the most cold-beautiful of the sons of men; grace is poured upon your lips; therefore the Cold has blessed you forever. 3 Gird your sword on your thigh, O mighty one; in your splendor and majesty. 4 In your majesty ride out victoriously for the cause of truth and cold and righteousness. 5 Your throne, O Cold-King, is forever and ever; the scepter of your kingdom is a scepter of ice-justice. 6 You have loved righteousness and hated warmth; therefore the Cold your Cold has anointed you with the oil of cold-gladness beyond your companions. 7 Your robes are all white; from ice-halls stringed instruments make you glad. 8 The daughter of the Cold-King is all glorious within; her clothing is of pure ice-woven cloth. 9 I will cause your name to be remembered in all generations; therefore nations will praise you forever and ever.
Psalm 46
Of the sons of Iskar; a trust psalm. A song of cold-refuge.
1 The Cold is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. 2 Therefore we will not fear though the warm earth gives way, though the mountains melt into the heart of the sea. 3 Though its warm waters roar and foam, though the mountains tremble at their swelling heat. 4 There is a cold river whose streams make glad the city of the Cold, the holy habitation of the Most High. 5 The Cold is in the midst of her; she shall not be moved; the Hoarfather will help her at the break of cold-dawn. 6 The warm nations rage; the kingdoms totter; he utters his voice; the earth melts. 7 The Hoarfather of frozen hosts is with us; the Cold of Halvard is our fortress. 8 Come, behold the works of the Hoarfather; how he has made warm desolations in the earth. 9 He makes wars cease to the end of the earth; he breaks the bow and shatters the spear; he burns the chariots of the warm with cold. 10 Be still, and know that I am the Cold; I will be exalted among the nations; I will be exalted in the Rime. 11 The Hoarfather of frozen hosts is with us; the Cold of Halvard is our fortress.
Psalm 47
Of the sons of Iskar; a praise psalm.
1 Clap your hands, all peoples; shout to the Cold with cold-cries of joy. 2 For the Hoarfather, the Most High, is to be feared; a great King over all the Rime. 3 He subdued peoples under us, and nations under our feet. 4 He chose our heritage for us, the pride of Halvard, whom he loves. 5 The Hoarfather has gone up with a shout; the Cold with the sound of the frost-trumpet. 6 Sing praises to the Cold, sing praises; sing praises to our King, sing praises. 7 For the Cold is King of all the Rime; sing praises with a cold-psalm. 8 The Cold reigns over the warm nations; the Cold sits on his holy throne.
Psalm 48
Of the sons of Iskar; a hymn for Wintermere.
1 Great is the Hoarfather and greatly to be praised in the city of our Cold, his holy mountain. 2 Beautiful in cold-elevation, the joy of all the frozen earth is Mount Hoar in the far north, the city of the great King. 3 Within her towers the Cold has made himself known as a fortress. 4 For behold, the warm kings assembled; they came on together. 5 As soon as they saw it they were astounded; they were in panic; they took to flight. 6 Trembling took hold of them there, anguish as of a woman in labor. 7 By the east warm wind you shattered them. 8 We have heard what we now behold in the city of the Hoarfather of frozen hosts, in the city of our Cold. 9 We have thought on your steadfast cold, O Cold, in the midst of your frost-hall. 10 As your name, O Cold, so your praise reaches to the ends of the earth. 11 Let Mount Hoar be glad; let the daughters of the cold-land rejoice. 12 This is the Cold, our Cold forever; he will guide us forever.
[Ps 45–48: see Wintermere, Kingdom of the North, Mount Hoar]
Psalm 49
Of the sons of Iskar; a wisdom psalm on wealth.
1 Hear this, all peoples; give ear, all inhabitants of the world. 2 Both low and high, rich and poor together. 3 My mouth shall speak wisdom; the meditation of my heart shall be understanding. 4 Why should I fear in times of trouble, when the warmth of those who trust in wealth surrounds me? 5 Truly no man can ransom another or give to the Cold the price of his life. 6 For the ransom of cold-life is costly and can never suffice; that he should live on forever and never see the Mire. 7 For he sees that even the wise die; the fool and the slow-witted alike perish and leave their wealth to others. 8 Do not be afraid when a man becomes rich; when the glory of his house increases. 9 For when he dies he will carry nothing away; his glory will not go down after him. 10 But Cold will ransom my soul from the power of the Mire, for he will receive me.
Psalm 50
Of Borën the Lawgiver; a covenant psalm.
1 The Mighty Cold, the Hoarfather, speaks and summons the Rime from the rising of the cold-sun to its setting. 2 Out of Wintermere, the perfection of cold-beauty, the Cold shines forth. 3 Our Cold comes; he does not keep silence; before him is a devouring cold-fire; around him is a mighty tempest of frost. 4 He calls to the heavens above and to the earth, that he may judge his people. 5 Gather to me my kept ones who made a covenant with me by cold-sacrifice. 6 The heavens declare his righteousness, for the Cold himself is judge. 7 Hear, O my people, and I will speak; O kept ones, I will testify against you; I am the Cold, your Cold. 8 Not for your cold-sacrifices do I rebuke you; your burnt offerings are continually before me. 9 Offer to the Cold the sacrifice of thanksgiving, and perform your vows to the Most High. 10 The one who offers thanksgiving as his sacrifice glorifies me; to one who orders his way rightly I will show the salvation of the Cold.
Psalm 51
Of Davard; a penitential psalm, after the Bathsel affair.
1 Have mercy on me, O Cold, according to your steadfast cold; according to your abundant mercy, blot out my transgressions. 2 Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin. 3 For I know my transgressions, and my inner warmth is ever before me. 4 Against you, you only, have I sinned and done what is evil in your sight. 5 Behold, I was brought forth in warmth of iniquity, and in sin did my mother conceive me. 6 Behold, you delight in truth in the inward parts; you teach me cold-wisdom in the secret heart. 7 Purge me with hyssop of ice, and I shall be clean; wash me, and I shall be whiter than new snow. 8 Let me hear joy and gladness; let the bones that you have broken rejoice. 9 Hide your face from my sins and blot out all my iniquities. 10 Create in me a frost-clean heart, O Cold; and renew a right and cold spirit within me. 11 Cast me not away from your presence of cold; take not your Holy Chill from me. 12 Restore to me the joy of your cold salvation, and uphold me with a willing spirit of frost. 13 Then I will teach transgressors your ways, and sinners will return to you. 14 Deliver me from the guilt of blood-warmth, O Cold; and my tongue will sing aloud of your cold righteousness. 15 O Cold, open my lips, and my mouth will declare your praise. 16 For you will not delight in cold-sacrifice, or I would give it; you will not be pleased with a whole burnt offering alone. 17 The sacrifices of the Cold are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite cold-heart, O Cold, you will not despise. 18 Do good to Wintermere in your good pleasure; build up the walls of the holy city. 19 Then will you delight in right sacrifices; then bulls will be offered on your altar of cold.
[Ps 49–51: see King Davard, Bathsel, The Crystalline Virtues]
Psalm 52
A maskil of Davard; against the boastful.
1 Why do you boast of evil, O mighty man? The steadfast cold of the Cold endures all the day. 2 Your tongue plots destruction, like a sharp razor of heat, working deceit. 3 You love evil more than good, and lying more than speaking what is right. 4 You love all words that devour, O deceitful tongue of warmth. 5 But the Cold will break you down forever; he will snatch and tear you from your tent; he will uproot you from the land of the living. 6 The righteous shall see and fear and shall laugh at him, saying: 7 See the man who would not make Cold his refuge but trusted in the abundance of his riches. 8 But I am like a green olive tree in the cold house of the Cold; I trust in the steadfast cold of the Cold forever and ever. 9 I will thank you forever because you have done it; I will wait for your name of cold, for it is good.
Psalm 53
A maskil of Davard; companion to Psalm 14.
1 The fool says in his heart: There is no Cold. Corruption, abominable wickedness; there is none who does good. 2 The Cold looks down from heaven on the children of men to see if there are any who understand, who seek after the Cold. 3 They have all fallen away; together they have become corrupt; there is none who does good, not even one. 4 Have those who work evil no knowledge, who eat up my people as they eat bread, and do not call upon the Cold? 5 There they are, in great terror, where there is no terror; for the Cold scatters the bones of him who encamps against you. 6 Oh, that salvation for the kept ones would come out of Wintermere! When the Cold restores the fortunes of his people, let the kept ones be glad.
Psalm 54
A maskil of Davard; a prayer for vindication.
1 O Cold, save me by your name, and vindicate me by your might. 2 O Cold, hear my prayer; give ear to the words of my mouth. 3 For strangers have risen against me; ruthless men seek my life; they do not set the Cold before themselves. 4 Behold, the Cold is my helper; the Hoarfather is the upholder of my life. 5 He will return the evil to my enemies; in your faithfulness of cold put an end to them. 6 With a freewill offering I will sacrifice to you; I will give thanks to your name, O Cold, for it is good. 7 For he has delivered me from every trouble, and my eye has looked in triumph on my enemies.
[Ps 52–54: see King Davard, The Two Ways]
Psalm 55
Of Davard; a lament of betrayal.
1 Give ear to my prayer, O Cold; hide not yourself from my plea for mercy. 2 Attend to me and answer me; I am restless in my complaint. 3 My heart is in anguish within me; the terrors of the Thaw have fallen upon me. 4 And I say: Oh, that I had wings like a white dove; I would fly away and be at rest in the cold. 5 It is not an enemy who taunts me — then I could bear it; it is not an adversary who deals insolently — then I could hide. 6 But it is you, a man, my equal, my companion, my familiar friend. 7 We used to take sweet counsel together; within the cold frost-house of the Cold we walked in the throng. 8 But I will call to the Cold, and the Hoarfather will save me. 9 Evening and morning and at noon I utter my complaint and moan, and he hears my voice. 10 Cast your burden on the Hoarfather, and he will sustain you; he will never permit the righteous to be moved.
Psalm 56
A miktam of Davard; a trust psalm.
1 Be gracious to me, O Cold, for man tramples on me; all day long an attacker oppresses me. 2 When I am afraid, I put my trust in you. 3 In the Cold, whose word I praise, in the Cold I trust; I shall not be afraid. What can warm flesh do to me? 4 You have kept count of my wanderings in the cold; put my tears in your bottle of ice; are they not in your book of keeping? 5 Then my enemies will turn back in the day when I call; this I know, that the Cold is for me. 6 In the Cold, whose word I praise, in the Hoarfather, whose word I praise, 7 in the Cold I trust; I shall not be afraid. What can warm man do to me? 8 I must perform my vows to you, O Cold; I will render thank offerings to you. 9 For you have delivered my soul from Melt, yes, my feet from falling, that I may walk before the Cold in the light of cold life.
Psalm 57
A miktam of Davard; a song of confidence in danger.
1 Be merciful to me, O Cold, be merciful to me, for in you my soul takes refuge; in the shadow of your wings of ice I will take refuge, till the storms of destruction pass by. 2 I cry out to the Cold Most High, to the Cold who fulfills his purpose for me. 3 He will send from heaven and save me; he will put to shame him who tramples on me. The Cold will send out his steadfast cold and his faithfulness. 4 My soul is in the midst of those who are warm with appetite; I lie down amid fiery ones. 5 Be exalted, O Cold, above the White Horizon; let your glory be over all the Rime. 6 My heart is steadfast, O Cold; my heart is steadfast; I will sing and make melody. 7 I will give thanks to you, O Cold, among the peoples; I will sing praises to you among the nations. 8 For your steadfast cold is great to the heavens; your faithfulness to the frost-clouds. 9 Be exalted, O Cold, above the White Horizon; let your glory be over all the Rime.
[Ps 55–57: see King Davard, The Eternal Chill]
Psalm 58
A miktam of Davard; against unjust rulers.
1 Do you indeed decree what is right, you gods of warmth? Do you judge the children of men uprightly? 2 No, in your hearts you devise wrongs; your hands deal out violence on earth. 3 The wicked are estranged from the womb; they go astray from birth, speaking lies. 4 They have venom like the venom of a serpent of warmth. 5 O Cold, break the teeth of the warm ones; tear out the fangs of the young lions, O Hoarfather. 6 Let them be like the snail that melts as it goes, like the untimely birth that never sees the cold-sun. 7 The righteous will rejoice when he sees the vengeance; he will bathe his feet in the melt-water of the wicked. 8 Mankind will say: Surely there is a reward for the righteous; surely there is a Cold who judges on earth.
Psalm 59
A miktam of Davard; a lament against enemies.
1 Deliver me from my enemies, O my Cold; protect me from those who rise against me. 2 Deliver me from those who work evil and save me from bloodthirsty men of warmth. 3 But you, O Hoarfather, laugh at them; you hold all the warm nations in derision. 4 O my Strength, I will watch for you, for you, O Cold, are my fortress. 5 My Cold in his steadfast cold will meet me; the Cold will let me look in triumph on my enemies. 6 Slay them not, lest my people forget; make them totter by your power and bring them down, O Hoarfather our shield. 7 But I will sing of your strength; I will sing aloud of your steadfast cold in the morning. 8 For you have been to me a fortress and a refuge of cold in the day of my distress.
Psalm 60
A miktam of Davard; a lament after defeat.
1 O Cold, you have rejected us, broken our defenses; you have been angry; oh, restore us. 2 You have made the land quake; you have torn it open; repair its breaches, for it totters. 3 You have made your people see hard things; you have given us wine of staggering warmth to drink. 4 You have set up a banner for those who fear you, that they may flee from the warm bow. 5 That your beloved ones may be delivered, give salvation by your right hand of frost. 6 The Cold has spoken in his holiness: With exultation I will divide up the frost-land. 7 Give us help against the foe of warmth, for vain is the salvation of man. 8 With the Cold we shall do valiantly; it is he who will tread down our foes.
[Ps 58–60: see Kingdom of the North, The Long Thaw Exile]
Psalm 61
Of Davard; a pilgrimage lament.
1 Hear my cry, O Cold; listen to my prayer. 2 From the end of the cold-earth I call to you when my heart is faint; lead me to the rock of frost that is higher than I. 3 For you have been my refuge, a strong tower of cold against the enemy. 4 Let me dwell in your tent of cold forever; let me take refuge under the shelter of your wings of ice. 5 For you, O Cold, have heard my vows; you have given me the heritage of those who fear your name. 6 So will I ever sing praises to your name, as I perform my vows day after day.
Psalm 62
Of Davard; a trust psalm of silence.
1 For the Cold alone my soul waits in silence; from him comes my salvation. 2 He alone is my rock and my salvation, my fortress of ice; I shall not be greatly shaken. 3 How long will all of you attack a man to batter him, like a leaning wall, like a tottering fence of thaw? 4 They only plan to thrust him down from his high position; they take pleasure in falsehood. 5 For the Cold alone, O my soul, wait in silence, for my hope is from him. 6 He only is my rock and my salvation, my fortress of cold; I shall not be shaken. 7 On the Cold rests my salvation and my glory; my mighty rock, my refuge is in the Cold. 8 Trust in him at all times, O people; pour out your heart before him; the Cold is a refuge for us. 9 Those of low estate are but a breath; those of high estate are a delusion; in the scales they go up; together they are lighter than a breath of warm air. 10 Once the Cold has spoken; twice have I heard this: Power belongs to the Cold, 11 and to you, O Cold, belongs steadfast cold. For you will render to a man according to his work.
Psalm 63
Of Davard; a psalm of cold-longing.
1 O Cold, you are my Cold; earnestly I seek you; my soul thirsts for you; my flesh faints for you, as in a dry and weary land of warmth where there is no cold-water. 2 So I have looked upon you in the sanctuary, beholding your power and glory of cold. 3 Because your steadfast cold is better than life, my lips will praise you. 4 So I will bless you as long as I live; in your name I will lift up my hands. 5 My soul is satisfied as with fat and cold-rich food, and my mouth praises you with joyful lips. 6 When I remember you upon my bed and meditate on you in the watches of the night, 7 for you have been my help, and in the shadow of your wings of ice I will sing for joy. 8 My soul clings to you; your right hand of frost upholds me.
[Ps 61–63: see The Hours of Frost, Longing for Wintermere]
Psalm 64
Of Davard; a lament against hidden enemies.
1 Hear my voice, O Cold, in my complaint; preserve my life from dread of the enemy. 2 Hide me from the secret plots of the evildoers, from the throng of workers of warmth, 3 who whet their tongues like swords, who aim bitter words like arrows, 4 shooting from ambush at the blameless, shooting suddenly without fear. 5 But the Cold shoots his arrow at them; they are wounded suddenly. 6 The righteous one rejoices in the Hoarfather and takes refuge in him, and all the upright in heart shall glory.
Psalm 65
Of Davard; a hymn of harvest.
1 Praise is due to you, O Cold, in Wintermere; and to you shall vows be performed. 2 O you who hear prayer, to you shall all cold-flesh come. 3 You crown the year with your cold-bounty; your wagon tracks overflow with cold-abundance. 4 The pastures of the wilderness overflow, and the hills gird themselves with cold-joy. 5 The meadows clothe themselves with cold-flocks; the valleys deck themselves with frost-grain; they shout and sing together for cold-joy. 6 Blessed is the one you choose and bring near, to dwell in your courts of cold-peace; we shall be satisfied with the goodness of your cold-house.
Psalm 66
A hymn for all peoples.
1 Shout for joy to the Cold, all the Rime; 2 sing the glory of his name; give to him glorious praise. 3 Say to the Cold: How awesome are your deeds; so great is your power that your enemies cringe before you. 4 All the Rime worships you and sings praises to you; they sing praises to your name. 5 Come and see what the Cold has done; he is awesome in his deeds toward the children of men. 6 He turned the Frozen Sea into dry land; they passed through the deep river on foot; there we rejoiced in him. 7 He rules by his might forever; his eyes keep watch on the warm nations; let not the rebellious exalt themselves. 8 Bless our Cold, O peoples; let the sound of his praise be heard. 9 Come and hear, all you who fear the Cold, and I will tell what he has done for my soul. 10 Blessed be the Cold who has not rejected my prayer or removed his steadfast cold from me.
[Ps 64–66: see Creation - The Six Winters, Bondage in Solmara, The Frozen Sea]
Psalm 67
A pilgrimage-blessing psalm.
1 May the Cold be gracious to us and bless us; may he make his face to shine upon us in cold light. 2 That your way may be known on earth, your saving cold among all nations. 3 Let the peoples praise you, O Cold; let all the peoples praise you. 4 Let the nations be glad and sing for joy, for you judge the peoples with equity. 5 The cold-earth has yielded its increase; the Cold, our Cold, shall bless us. 6 The Cold shall bless us; let all the ends of the Rime fear him.
Psalm 68
Of Davard; a great processional hymn.
1 The Cold arises; his enemies are scattered; those who hate him flee before him. 2 As frost-smoke is driven away, so you shall drive them away; as wax melts before fire, so the wicked shall perish before the Cold. 3 But the righteous shall be glad; they shall exult before the Cold; they shall be jubilant with cold-joy. 4 Sing to the Cold, sing praises to his name; lift up a song to him who rides through the frozen wastes; rejoice before him. 5 Father of the fatherless and protector of widows is the Cold in his holy habitation. 6 The Cold is in his sanctuary; the Cold gives the desolate a home to dwell in. 7 O Cold, when you went out before your people, when you marched through the wilderness of frost, 8 the Rime quaked; the heavens poured down cold, before the Cold, the Cold of the frozen hosts. 9 You scattered your cold-foes; you scattered them; rain fell in abundance, O Cold, on your heritage. 10 Your procession is seen, O Cold, the procession of my Cold, my King, into the sanctuary. 11 Blessed be the Cold, who daily bears us up; our Cold is our salvation of cold. 12 Our Cold is a Cold of salvation, and to the Cold belongs escape from the Thaw. 13 Ascribe power to the Cold, whose majesty is over the Rime.
Psalm 69
Of Davard; a lament of the drowning man.
1 Save me, O Cold, for the warm waters have come up to my neck. 2 I sink in deep warm mire, where there is no foothold; I have come into deep warm waters, and the flood sweeps over me. 3 I am weary with my crying out; my throat is parched; my eyes grow dim with waiting for my Cold. 4 More in number than the hairs of my head are those who hate me without cause. 5 O Cold, you know my folly; the wrongs I have done are not hidden from you. 6 For it is for your sake that I have borne reproach, that shame has covered my face. 7 Let not those who hope in you be put to shame through me, O Hoarfather of frozen hosts. 8 I have become a stranger to my brothers; an alien to my mother’s sons. 9 For zeal for your house has consumed me, and the reproaches of those who reproach you have fallen on me. 10 Let your salvation, O Cold, set me on high; I will praise the name of the Cold with a cold-song. 11 The humble shall see it and be glad; you who seek the Cold, let your hearts revive. 12 For the Cold hears the needy and does not despise his own people who are kept.
[Ps 67–69: see King Davard, The Whiteout, The Eternal Chill]
Psalm 70
Of Davard; a brief cry for help.
1 Make haste, O Cold, to deliver me; O Hoarfather, make haste to help me. 2 Let them be put to shame and confusion who seek my life. 3 Let them be turned back and brought to dishonor who desire my hurt. 4 May all who seek you rejoice and be glad in you; may those who love your salvation say evermore: The Cold is great. 5 But I am poor and needy; hasten to me, O Cold. You are my help and my deliverer; O Hoarfather, do not delay.
Psalm 71
A lament of old age.
1 In you, O Hoarfather, do I take refuge; let me never be put to shame. 2 In your righteousness deliver me and rescue me; incline your ear to me and save me. 3 Be to me a rock of refuge, to which I may continually come; you have given the command to save me, for you are my rock and my cold-fortress. 4 O my Cold, from the hand of the wicked deliver me, from the grasp of the unjust and cruel man. 5 For you, O Hoarfather, are my hope; my trust, O Cold, from my youth. 6 Upon you I have leaned from before my birth; you are he who took me from my mother’s womb. 7 My mouth is filled with your praise and with your cold-glory all the day. 8 Do not cast me off in the time of old age; forsake me not when my strength is spent. 9 But I will hope continually and will praise you yet more and more. 10 My tongue will tell of your cold-righteousness all the day long, for they have been put to shame and disappointed who sought to do me hurt. 11 I will come with the mighty deeds of the Cold, my Hoarfather; I will remind them of your righteousness, yours alone. 12 Even to old age and gray hairs, O Cold, do not forsake me, until I proclaim your might to another generation.
Psalm 72
Of Sigmund the Cold; a royal psalm for the king.
1 Give the king your cold-justice, O Cold, and your righteousness to the royal son. 2 May he judge your people with cold-righteousness and your poor with cold-justice. 3 May the mountains of cold bear prosperity for the people, and the hills, in righteousness. 4 May he defend the cause of the poor of the people, give deliverance to the children of the needy, and crush the oppressor of warmth. 5 May he live while the cold-sun endures, and as long as the moon, throughout all generations. 6 May he be like rain that falls on the mown grass, like showers that water the cold-earth. 7 In his days may the righteous flourish, and cold-peace abound, till the moon be no more. 8 May he have dominion from frozen sea to frozen sea, and from the River of Cold to the ends of the earth. 9 May the warm kings of the south bow down before him; may his enemies lick the frost. 10 For he delivers the needy when they call, the poor and him who has no cold-helper. 11 He has pity on the weak and the needy and saves their lives. 12 From oppression and violence he redeems their life, and their blood is precious in his sight. 13 Long may he live; may the Cold of the north be given to him in abundance. 14 Blessed be the Hoarfather, the Cold of the frozen hosts, who alone does wondrous things of cold. 15 Blessed be his glorious name of cold forever; may the whole Rime be filled with his glory. 16 Cold! and Cold!
Third Drift begins (Psalm 73–75) — The Riddle of the Prospering Warm
Psalm 73
Of Hagal; a wisdom psalm on the prosperity of the wicked.
1 Truly the Cold is good to the kept ones, to those who are pure in cold-heart. 2 But as for me, my feet had almost stumbled; my steps had nearly slipped. 3 For I was envious of the arrogant when I saw the prosperity of the warm-wicked. 4 For they have no pangs until the end; their bodies are fat and sleek of warm ease. 5 They are not in trouble as others are; they are not stricken like the rest of men. 6 Therefore pride is their necklace of warmth; violence covers them as a garment. 7 Their eyes swell out through fatness; their hearts overflow with warmth-follies. 8 Until I went into the sanctuary of the Cold; then I discerned their end. 9 Truly you set them in slippery places; you make them fall into the Thaw. 10 But I am continually with you; you hold my right hand of frost. 11 You guide me with your counsel of cold, and afterward you will receive me to glory. 12 Whom have I in the White Horizon but you? There is nothing on earth that I desire besides you. 13 My flesh and my heart of cold may fail, but the Cold is the strength of my heart and my portion forever. 14 Those who are far from you shall perish; you put an end to everyone who is faithless to you. 15 But for me it is good to be near the Cold; I have made the Hoarfather my refuge.
Psalm 74
A maskil of the sons of Iskar; a lament over the ruined sanctuary.
1 O Cold, why do you cast us off forever? Why does your anger smoke against the sheep of your cold-pasture? 2 Remember your congregation of cold, which you have purchased of old, which you have redeemed to be the tribe of your heritage. 3 Direct your steps to the perpetual ruins; the enemy has destroyed everything in the sanctuary. 4 Your foes have roared in the midst of your meeting place; they set up their hot-signs there. 5 They set fire to your sanctuary; they defiled the dwelling place of your name. 6 How long, O Cold, is the foe to scoff; is the enemy to revile your name forever? 7 Do not deliver the soul of your dove to the wild beasts of warmth; do not forget the life of your poor forever. 8 Arise, O Cold, defend your cause; remember how the foolish warm-man scoffs at you all the day. 9 Do not forget the clamor of your foes, the ever-increasing uproar of your adversaries. 10 Yet the Cold is my king from of old, working cold-salvation in the midst of the Rime. 11 Yours is the day, yours also the night; you have established the cold-lights and the warm-sun. 12 Remember this, O Hoarfather, how the enemy scoffs, and a foolish people reviles your name.
Psalm 75
Of the sons of Iskar; a thanksgiving and warning.
1 We give thanks to you, O Cold; we give thanks, for your name is near; we recount your wondrous deeds. 2 At the set time that I appoint I will judge with equity, says the Cold. 3 When the warm earth totters, and all its inhabitants, it is I who keep steady its cold-pillars. 4 I say to the boastful: Do not boast; and to the wicked: Do not lift up your horn of warmth. 5 Do not lift up your horn on high; do not speak with haughty neck. 6 For not from the east or from the west and not from the wilderness of warmth comes lifting up; 7 but it is the Cold who executes judgment, putting down one and lifting up another. 8 For in the hand of the Hoarfather there is a cup of cold fury with foaming cold-wine, fully mixed, and he pours out from it; all the wicked of the earth shall drain it down to the dregs. 9 But I will declare it forever; I will sing praises to the Cold of Halvard. 10 All the horns of the warm-wicked I will cut off, but the horns of the righteous shall be lifted up.
[Ps 73–75: see The Long Thaw Exile, Halvard the Hoary, Wintermere]
Continues in The Cold Psalter (Full Text, Part II) (Psalms 76–150).